


Beneath the Stars

by starlightwalking



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Canon Compliant, Friend Breakup, Friendship, Gen, Heavy Angst, POV Tauriel, Searching for Home, Wanderer Tauriel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-09
Updated: 2017-01-29
Packaged: 2018-05-12 17:54:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 49,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5675194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starlightwalking/pseuds/starlightwalking
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the battle, Tauriel struggles to find a place in the world. With the War of the Ring on the horizon and her past haunting her footsteps, she must find a way to keep her hope even in these dark hours and find a home where she truly belongs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! This is my newest fic, centering on post-BotFA Tauriel. It will reference back to Tauriel's relationship to Kili throughout, but since he won't be making an appearance since he's, y'know, dead. This fic will (probably) be 25 chapters. This story will follow Tauriel from right after the Battle of the Five Armies through the War of the Ring. There will be canonical and supporting character death, but despite all the angst there will be a (mostly) happy ending. I'll follow movie canon for the most part (not for the funeral, though), but I'll include book canon whenever it doesn't contradict movie canon.  
> Thanks for reading!  
> 

  _Night is now falling_  
_So ends this day_  
_The road is now calling  
_ _And I must away..._

* * *

They buried the heirs in the evening.

The sun set just as the final cover was laid over the stone tomb, concealing Thorin Oakenshield's face forever. He had been the last of the three dwarves to die, the last of the three to be buried. King Under the Mountain he was, the king of Durin's dead.

Tauriel's face was pale and expressionless as the dwarves all bowed to their deceased leader, even King Dáin. She said nothing, had said little since Kíli's death. She stood in the back of the crowd, watching. Alone.

The halfling had spoken to her some, treating her with kindness. He had been close to Oakenshield, and fond of Fíli and Kíli. His words were heartfelt, but they did little to ease her pain. He had left already; heading to his homeland with the wizard Gandalf.

A little to her left was King Bard, ruler of the Men of Esgaroth. He was just and wise, for a man, but he felt little sorrow at this occasion—Oakenshield had been no friend of his.

Thranduil and the elves had returned to the Greenwood, promising to send periodic aid to Esgaroth, and to keep the peace with Erebor. Tauriel had not gone with him.

Though Thranduil had been sympathetic—as much as could be expected—he had refused to allow her to return to his realm. Tauriel missed her home, but she could not return. She would not have returned even if Thranduil had allowed her. Too many memories, too many bad feelings were in that place. And she could not face Legolas again, so soon.

For his part, Legolas had left almost immediately after the Battle of the Five Armies was won. North he journeyed, or so Thranduil said, to visit the Dúnedain. Tauriel was relieved she did not have to speak with him, though his loss hurt.

The dwarves rose, the funeral adjourned. Now they left to feast and make merry, celebrating the lives of the dead.

Tauriel reached into her pocket, pulling out Kíli's promise stone. She walked forward, toward the graves. Oakenshield's sister-sons, Kíli and his brother Fíli, were buried on either side of him in matching tombs. Tauriel rested her hand on the left one—Kíli's final resting place.

"I am sorry, Kíli," she whispered, blinking back tears. She rested the promise stone beneath his name, engraved in the Dwarvish language on smooth, white stone. She stood there for a long while, alone. Then she tilted her head up to the sky, full of stars. Stars she had for so long yearned to see in full beauty, as she saw them now. But they brought her no joy.

"Look at the stars, Kíli," she murmured. "And the moon...it's so bright... Now that I no longer abide in the forest, perhaps I will see a fire moon some day, and think of you."

She picked up the stone. "I will have to give this to one of your kinsmen, Kíli," she sighed. "To take back to your mother. Do you understand?"

There was no answer. Tauriel did not expect one, but she still was hurt. Hurt by his absence, his loss.

She remembered him dying upon the blade of the orc. How he had mouthed that word, the Khuzdul word he had spoken to her on the shores of the Long Lake: _amrâlimê_. An "I love you" in his own tongue. She had not had the chance to say it back to him. She said it now, her tongue instinctively forming the phrase in Sindarin instead of the common speech.

" _Gi melin_ , Kíli," she whispered, tears rolling down her fair, pale face. "I love you..."

There were footsteps behind her, the heavy thump of a dwarvish boots. Tauriel shoved Kíli's stone in her pocket, not wanting others to see it, and turned to face the approaching dwarf.

It was the bald one. She could not recall his name. After the battle, she had wandered among the dead and helped to clean up, meeting several dwarves and speaking to many elves she had known from the Greenwood. Bard the Bowman, now the King of his Men, had offered to house her in the ruins of Dale, and she had stayed there for the nights preceding the funeral. Tauriel had spoken little to the dwarves of Erebor and of the Iron Hills, but she knew they were at least somewhat aware of her romance with Kíli.

She nodded to the bald dwarf, who nodded back, his eyes pained.

"Elf," he said, his voice low and guttural, "I know you have reason to be here...but leave me alone in my grief for my King."

"I—I was just leaving," she stammered, backing away from the tombs. The bald dwarf nodded and coughed, looking beyond her as she exited the hall of the dead.

Tauriel walked through the halls of Erebor. The dwarves of the Iron Hills had helped clean the place up some, but their feast was in the process of destroying all their hard work.

She slipped past the dining hall and into the treasure hoard of Smaug. She looked down at the mounds of gold and jewels. Thranduil and Bard had taken their share of the wealth, but most of it remained for the dwarves of Erebor to keep.

Tauriel sat down, staring at the piles of gold. The mounds stretched forever, spilling into yawning caves and filling up great halls. The dwarves lusted after it, but for Tauriel the acquisition of the treasure and the mountain held no solace. It was not worth Kíli's death.

"Magnificent, isn't it?" a wise old voice said from behind her.

Tauriel turned to see the old dwarf, Balin. He walked closer and sat down beside her, comically shorter than she was.

"It is no comfort to me," she murmured in response.

Balin nodded. "I feel your pain, elf-maiden. I was Thorin's friend, his closest advisor. I helped raise Fíli and Kíli. Gold immeasurable holds not the price of life. But it is done now." He sighed. Tauriel stared into the halls of treasure, saying nothing.

"I know you grieve, elf-maiden," Balin said, patting her on the arm. "But the mountain is no place for elves, even in light of recent events."

"I know this," she murmured. "I will leave. Tonight, if you and your king wish."

"You could have gone with Bilbo and Gandalf for some leagues," Balin commented.

"I could have." She sighed. "But I wished to stay for the funeral. And I did not think they would welcome me."

"They would have, more so than my kin," the old dwarf said.

Tauriel nodded. She took a deep breath, then took Kíli's promise stone from her pocket. "Kíli gave me this, before he died."

Balin took the stone and examined it. "A promise," he murmured, his eyes clouded with memory. "One broken."

"It was to his mother, and to me, in the end," she explained. "When you bring your kin back to the mountain, give her this, please. It is not mine any longer."

Balin looked at the stone, then back up at Tauriel. He took her hand and gave it back to her. "Come with us, elf-maiden, to Ered Luin. Dís their mother should hear the whole tale, from you and my brother Dwalin both."

Tauriel clutched the stone and stared at him. "I could not."

"I will speak for you," he said, nodding his head and looking her in the eyes. "I hold respect even in the mind of Dáin. It will be only I and Dwalin, and perhaps one other."

Tauriel closed her eyes. Kíli would want his mother to know of his fate. She could ensure that Dís received the promise stone, at the very least.

"If you will speak for me, I will go," she answered Balin. "I do not have any other place waiting for me."

He clapped her on the knee. "Good! But first, what is your name, elf-maiden? I am afraid I have forgotten it."

"I am Tauriel," she told him.

"Well, Tauriel," Balin said, "I will meet you tomorrow outside Dale. Gather your belongings; we leave at dawn."


	2. Chapter 2

Early the next morning, Tauriel roused herself and prepared herself for her coming journey. She had rested in the ruins of Dale, alone, curled up on a spare blanket given to her by King Bard. The people of Esgaroth were camped elsewhere in the city. Tauriel's resting spot faced south, away from Ravenhill. She couldn't bear to look at that place so soon after...

She blinked, trying to focus on other things. What little possessions she had—her sword, daggers, clothes, and a new bow, another gift from King Bard, who had pitied her situation—were packed into a bag in a matter of minutes or else sheathed and ready to be carried with her. In her pocket was a lump where Kíli's promise stone hid.

She walked down to the edge of the city, her face calm and composed. She stopped, staring out at the Lonely Mountain. Three small figures made their way across the plain between Erebor and Dale, their steps steady and slow. Dwarves.

Tauriel leaped down and strode over to meet them. One was Balin, the old dwarf. The other two she vaguely recognized from their imprisonment in Thranduil's halls, but she did not know their names. One had a thick red beard, the other a black one and a bald head. Neither looked very happy to see her.

"Friend," Balin greeted her as the dwarves approached. She nodded in return. The red-bearded one snorted, and the bald one scowled. Clearly, they did not share Balin's sentiment.

"I am Tauriel," she introduced herself to the other dwarves. "Balin invited me to journey with you to the Blue Mountains."

"He did not explain well why," Red-beard growled. "Your foolish pining after Kíli is no excuse to bring an elf along—"

"She was there when he died," Balin said, his voice mild yet stern. "Dís deserves to hear the whole story."

Tauriel took the stone out from her pocket and showed it to Red-beard and Bald-head. "Kíli gave this to me on the shores of the Long Lake. It was his mother's." She fought to repress herself from adding an irritated jibe. She did not like the look Red-beard was giving her.

Bald-head took the stone from her, turning it over in his hand. He grunted, then gave it back to her without comment.

"Must she come with us, Balin?" Red-beard asked the old dwarf, his mouth twisted in disgust. "Could we not take the stone and the story and go alone ourselves?"

"Let her come, Glóin," Bald-head interrupted. "She grieves as we do, and could doubtless tell the tale better than I. She's the only one who witnessed Kíli's death."

Balin nodded sternly to Red-beard, adding his agreement. Red-beard gritted his teeth, but told Tauriel stiffly, "Very well." After a moment's pause, he added, "I am Glóin, son of Gróin."

"And I am Dwalin, son of Fundin," Bald-head said. "Balin is my brother."

Tauriel inclined her head slightly. "I am pleased to meet you," she answered, her voice empty and monotone.

"Let us be off!" Balin declared. "It is a long way to Ered Luin, though we may take quieter roads this journey."

"Thank Mahal for that," Glóin grunted, beginning to walk after Balin. Tauriel waited until each of them had passed her before taking a deep breath and beginning her long journey with a single step.

* * *

The small group hiked over the hills and around the Long Lake that day, before setting up camp on the shores of the lake. Tauriel laid her blanket several feet away from the fire where the dwarves ate noisily and mumbled to each other in Khuzdul. She nibbled on some lembas bread, not hungry, then rested for a short while.

When she roused, it was still dark. The fire burnt low, the dwarves all asleep. It was unwise for them to not leave a watch, she thought with a frown. Then again, she reflected, after the battle, not many dangers had survived.

Tauriel sat up and crawled nearer to the flames. She poked at the glowing embers with a twig, trying to stoke it up a little. Beside her, Glóin snored in his sleep, the noise echoing throughout their camp. She rolled her eyes, her lips twitching in an infant smile.

She wondered if Kíli had snored.

The thought dampened her spirits immediately, and she decided to take a walk. Tauriel wandered the shores, looking out on the empty husk of the Lake-town, charred and floating in the icy water.

Somewhere in that lake lay a dragon's corpse, cold and empty and fireless. How strange that something so great and bright and evil could be snuffed out by a single arrow, shot by a mere man. How strange that such ruin and death could be brought upon the inhabitants of this land round about in a few days only.

Tauriel remembered facing this lake, watching a boat disappear on the horizon, drawing ever closer to the mountain. Her soul was filled with grief as she recalled the chill wind, the gray morning, the warm touch of Kíli's hands, the smoothness of the stone he pressed into her palms...

Unbidden, she pulled it out of her pocket. She would never forget, never truly recover. This sorrow pierced her very heart, and a wound like that could never fully heal.

She had heard of elves, upon losing their loved ones, wasting away in their grief and perishing. She would not allow that to happen to her. She would not let her sorrow consume her. But still it _hurt_ , knowing she could never go back to her troubled ignorance in Thranduil's halls, nor return to the wakening of Kíli's arrival in her life, or even hope for a future of them together. There was only darkness ahead of her, darkness and obscurity.

Tauriel did not know what lay ahead of her, what she would do after the journey to Ered Luin, but she knew that she would not give into her grief. She would fight, find a purpose again...or at the very least find a rest. Yes, rest was good. Rest...and peace.

She lowered her head, allowing the light, cool breeze to play with her hair. She smelled the clean air blown off the lake and heard the faint snores of the dwarves behind her.

Tauriel rubbed the stone with her thumb, feeling the engraved ruins. It would not be hers for much longer—it belonged to Kíli's mother. She would have to remember it well for all the centuries ahead of her.

With a sigh, she turned around and walked back to the fire. She would keep watch over her new companions as the night died and the day was reborn, as it was clear they could not themselves.

* * *

The next morning, the four travelers set out once more. While Dwalin and Balin were for the most part somber, still caught up in grief for their fallen friends, Glóin sang to break the silence, merry and confident.

"I cannot wait to see Nigríd again!" he exclaimed to the other two dwarves. "I can see the Misty Mountains on the horizon, we have traveled far in only two days!"

"It has hardly been one," Tauriel corrected him. "And we must circumnavigate all of the Greenwood before we reach the mountains."

"I do hope we will not have to go through that accursed forest once more," Dwalin said in disgust. "Even Glóin would be hesitant to do so, however much he misses his wife!"

"The path is too dangerous, and we have time now," Balin said. "We will go around. And I would not wish to bring the Elvenking's wrath upon us again."

Glóin chuckled, smirking. "His son in particular was very rude to me upon our capture—part of me wishes to travel the forest just in order to give him some rudeness of my own!"

"He is not there any longer," Tauriel said quietly from the back of the group. "He travels north now. And I could not go back to Thranduil's halls even if I wished to. I am no longer welcome there."

"All the more reason to go through," Glóin muttered. Tauriel gritted her teeth, but said nothing. Doubtless the red-bearded dwarf was only trying to get a reaction out of her with all his jibing. She would not lower herself to satisfy him.

They trekked along the river for the rest of the day. Balin stopped at dusk. Turning round to face his companions, he said, "I am an old dwarf, and my feet are tired. Let us stop for tonight."

"How often you must rest," Tauriel remarked. "We stopped at midday as well. I could walk for hours more."

"You must forgive us for our needs," Balin said, his words clipped in irritation. "It will be like this for our entire journey."

"How long ought it to take, Balin?" Glóin asked. "I am anxious to see Nigríd and Gimli again."

"The journey to Erebor took us months," Balin replied. "We are taking the longer route, to avoid danger, so I imagine we will not be in Ered Luin until midsummer at the earliest."

Glóin scowled. Dwalin bumped shoulders with him sympathetically.

As the dwarves talked amongst themselves, Tauriel stood and stretched her arms, saying, "I will watch over you tired dwarves. The forest is not far off, and there are still evil things in there, even greater foes than the spiders, which thirteen dwarves and a halfling could not handle until the elves arrived."

Glóin grumbled under his breath, but Tauriel paid him no mind. While Dwalin, at least, seemed to have accepted her presence on their journey, Tauriel doubted the red-bearded dwarf would ever grow to do the same. He was nothing like Kíli—it was strange to think the two were related in any way, whether in blood or in race.

"Very well," Balin agreed. "I will take my turn at midnight—"

"There is no need," she said briskly. "I rested last night and the night before. I am not tired."

"At the very least, eat with us," the kindly dwarf insisted.

"I am not hungry," she said, politely refusing. "Do not make effort to include me. I am happy to be alone."

"Elf-maiden—" he protested.

"You make call me Tauriel, if you wish to make a gesture of kindness," she said. "Now, build your foolish fire. I will watch over and ward off whatever it attracts. Goodnight!"

She stood and walked off a ways, surveying the area. It was going to be a long night.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, just a heads up, I'm changing my username to starlightwalking to match my tumblr. If you use email alerts or want to find me or something, I'll be on here as starlightwalking from now on!

 

Many months passed while Tauriel traveled with the small company of dwarves. She never quite felt at home among them, but she trusted them not to turn on her.

Balin remained polite and kind, though he was still a dwarf at heart and rude on occasion. Dwalin accepted her as a comrade, but made no attempt to befriend her. For that she was relieved: she was still mourning Kíli, and felt she would be for the rest of her life, and she needed distance. Dwalin understood that. He had lost his king, a close friend, and he needed space just as she did, to grieve.

Only Glóin remained a thorn in her side. The red-bearded dwarf mocked her at any given chance, much to her irritation. At first she ignored his rude remarks, but eventually it became too much to bear. She snapped, and began giving him retorts in return after each of his callous jibes.

The three dwarves and the elf traveled around the Misty Mountains and through Eriador with little trouble. Mostly, they camped on the side of the road, but occasionally they ran across some mannish civilizations where they could spend the night in an inn.

On one such occasion, Tauriel was hungry enough to eat with her companions in the main room of the inn. Normally, she did not like to call attention to herself in such places. She wore an elven cloak, covering her vibrant red hair with a hood. Her height alone would make her conspicuous, especially compared to that of the dwarves.

"So you decided to join us, elf?" Glóin jeered as she set her place across the table from them.

"I was hungry enough to lower myself to endure your presence," she said coolly.

Dwalin snorted into his food. She glared at him, not sure if he was amused by Glóin's look of frustration or disappointed in the feebleness of her comeback.

She daintily cut her food, watching in distaste as the dwarves devoured theirs using only their hands. Tauriel smirked, thinking of what the elves back home would think of their messy habits. That wasn't to say that the mess hall of the Guard had never gotten a bit rowdy, but at least they used forks and spoons.

"No need to be discourteous," Balin said wearily. "We're all friends here."

"So, Balin, what's this town called again?" Dwalin asked, his mouth full. Tauriel sighed, rolling her eyes and resisting the temptation to tell him to chew with his mouth closed.

"It's Bree," Balin said. "We're not at all far from the Shire, actually."

"Really?" Glóin said. "Ought we to stop and give Bilbo a visit?"

"If he's home yet," Dwalin added. "He and Gandalf took a different route."

"I'm sure he's back by now," Tauriel said. "They left before we did."

"Only by a few days," Glóin countered.

"If he is back, he'll be settling back into his old life," Balin said. "We shouldn't drop by and suddenly change things for him again. We'll visit at a later time."

Glóin shrugged. "All right."

They ate for a little while longer, before Dwalin asked another question. "How much longer to Ered Luin?"

"I'd say another month," Balin estimated, "since we're going around the Shire and not through it."

"I will be leaving your company after I return the stone to Lady Dís," Tauriel informed them quietly.

"Can't stand to stay with us dwarves any longer?" Glóin blustered.

She shook her head. "No. The dwarves can't stand to stay with me any longer."

"Tauriel, friend, that's not true—" Balin lied virtuously.

Tauriel cut him off with a forced laugh. "It was very kind of you to invite me to come along, and I am grateful you did. But even after months of travel with you slow folk, I do not feel welcome, though perhaps this is my fault and not yours, kind Master Balin."

"Balin, did you say?" a gruff voice said from behind them. The company turned to see a tall man with an angry looking scowl leering over them. Tauriel frowned at him and his three lumbering cronies.

"Look at this!" the man jeered. "Three dwarves, and—bless my bunions, you're no dwarf, nor a man, either. I haven't seen an elf in a long, long time, and never in these parts. How are you traveling with this ugly lot and not tearing each other apart?"

Tauriel looked at him coolly. "What I do in this place with my companions is my business, not yours, countryman."

"We-e-ell!" the man said, leaning back a little. "A _female_ elf. And is this your escort, m'lady? Needed some knives to watch your pretty back?"

Tauriel, highly offended by the implication that she could not take care of herself, swiftly drew an arrow out of her quiver and shoved it in his face. "This arrow and its friends are not for show, countryman. I can take care of myself."

"All right, all right," he grumbled, pushing the arrow away. Tauriel slowly lowered her weapons, glaring at the impetuous man.

"I am Balin," the old dwarf said, nodding to the man. "Have we met before, good sir?"

"Yes, we have," the tall man growled. Tauriel noted with some concern that he was fingering his knife hilt. "Good Master Balin, who cheated me in selling me a sick pony!"

The old dwarf looked at him quizzically. "I'm afraid I don't recall the occasion. Perhaps if you gave me your name, it would jog my memory."

"Brekk," the man sneered. "In Ered Luin, near two years ago."

Balin frowned, tapping his nose as he thought. One of Brekk's cronies pulled out his knife, casually cleaning dirt out of his fingernails. Tension hung in the air as everyone waited for Balin to answer. Tauriel subtly drew some knives of her own, her eyes on Brekk's companions. She didn't think this meeting would end well.

"You know, that does ring a bell," Balin admitted. Beside him, Tauriel could see Dwalin and Glóin preparing for a fight in a more obvious fashion. "If the pony was sick, Master Brekk, it was not my fault. I took good care of her. If she fell ill after the sale, I'm afraid it was your doing, Master Brekk."

Brekk's pasty skin flushed red in rage. He screeched out, "Liar! Cheat!" Apparently he had reached the end of his patience, for he drew his knife in a flash and threw it at Balin.

The old dwarf, expecting it, ducked, and the knife went flying over his head and into the wall. Brekk's cronies jumped forward, attacking their small group alongside their leader.

Tauriel stood up and quickly disarmed the larger of the two bulky men, before hitting him on the head with the hilt of her dagger. She was careful not to kill him. These were not orcs, but men—ugly, dishonest men who meant no good, but they were the children of Ilúvatar nonetheless. He fell unconscious the ground.

Dwalin and Balin had Brekk well in hand, leaving Glóin to deal with the ugly merchant's second cronie. Tauriel jumped over the table and on top of his opponent. The big man grunted in surprise as his knees gave out under the pressure of her body.

Glóin swore at her. "I was taking care of him!" he shouted, lifting his axe and hitting him on the head with its hilt.

Tauriel smirked, jumping off the man and throwing her knife into the throat of Brekk's third cronie, who had been about to drive a sword into the red-bearded dwarf's head. She regretted having to kill him, but when it came down to his life or Gloin's, the choice was easy, even though Glóin continued to be a thorn in her side.

"But not the other one," she pointed out.

He scowled, watching as his would-be killer's sword dropped to the ground and the man himself fell backwards, dead.

Tauriel looked around. The bar was wide-eyed and fearful of the fighters, its inhabitants pressed up against the walls in order to avoid the brawl. Dwalin and Balin had cut off Brekk's hand and tied him up while he wailed in pain and protest. The proprietor of the inn, the Prancing Pony, shook in his boots.

Tauriel walked up to him. "I'm sorry this happened," she told him, her mind still buzzing in the aftermath of the battle. "I would suggest that the local authorities clean up this mess and take these men into custody. They attacked us first, so you'll find any consequences of their actions are not our fault. We're sorry. We will be leaving now."

The innkeeper nodded fearfully. Tauriel gathered up her possessions and watched as her companions did the same, albeit begrudgingly. She, too, would rather have spent the night in the inn, but she didn't feel quite safe there anymore.

After they left Bree's walls, Balin stopped in the road and turned around, looking a bit cross.

"Tauriel, have you forgotten that I am the leader of this company?" he asked her, sounding annoyed. "I agree with your actions, but it should have been me who spoke with the innkeeper, not you!"

She shrugged. "You were busy with that orc-spawn Brekk."

Balin shook his head. "Tauriel—"

"Oh, leave her be," Glóin burst out. Surprised, Tauriel looked at him with raised eyebrows.

"She's just trying to keep us alive," he continued. "It was the right thing to do."

"Why so fond of our elfmaid all of a sudden, Glóin?" Dwalin asked. Tauriel was thinking along the same lines. Why defend her now when he had been so critical of her before?

"She saved my life back there," he said simply. "I'm expressing my gratitude."

"You're welcome," Tauriel said, smiling to him. "Will this attitude of kindness continue, or shall we go back to being nasty to each other?"

Glóin sighed, a bit ruefully. "Very well, Captain Tauriel. I guess you're not that bad after all. We shall be courteous to each other."

"Good, Master Glóin," she said, nodding. "You aren't that bad, either. I suppose." She smirked at his bemused eye-roll, then looked back to Balin. "Lord Balin, I am sorry for overstepping my bounds, but action had to be taken. I will wait for you, next time."

Balin nodded. "Good." He sighed and looked around the wood, his mind moving over to other matters. "I guess here is as good a place to stop for the night as any. Let's set up camp."


	4. Chapter 4

Ered Luin was not much different from the Misty Mountains in size, though there were much less orcs and other dangers, and many more dwarves. The settlement Tauriel and her companions were headed to was the one the dwarves of Erebor had found a home in. The place was in the foothills of the Blue Mountains, a neat little village in a valley.

Before Balin led the four of them through the city's gates, Tauriel stopped. She was hesitant to enter the settlement, worried that she would be met with violence. She was an elf, after all, and a deadly enemy to the dwarves.

"Perhaps it is best I wait outside the gate," she said uneasily. "I doubt elves will be welcomed here."

"You are with us," Balin said. "Dís is in the city. Speaking with her was the reason you came, after all."

"I don't want to cause any trouble," Tauriel said.

"We will make sure no one harms you, my lady," Dwalin said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

She sighed. "I'm not afraid of battle," she snapped, "but I'd rather avoid a commotion if possible."

"You'll be fine, Captain," Glóin said, slapping her heartily on the back in a gesture of camaraderie. Tauriel stepped away from him, but flashed him a quick glance of recognition.

"Fine," she conceded. "I will go with you." She took a step forward and the company walked toward the gate.

Tauriel lagged behind her companions, doing her best to look inconspicuous. Among dwarves, though, even covering her hair was useless. She was just too tall.

When they got to the gate, the gatekeeper gawked up at her, completely ignoring his fellow dwarves.

"What's an elf doing in these parts?" he asked gruffly.

"That's my business, good sir, and not yours," she replied cordially.

He drew himself up, puffing his chest up importantly, though he was still laughably small. "As the gatekeeper, I'm afraid it _is_ my business."

"She's with us, Togrod," Balin said tiredly. "May we go in or not?"

The dwarf blinked and turned to Balin. "B-Balin? You're back—in one piece?"

"Yes," the old dwarf answered. "We've come to bring our people back to Erebor."

Togrod ran out from behind his gate and embraced a surprised Balin, openly weeping.

"The dragon is dead?" he asked through his tears. "Our home is regained?"

"Yes, Togrod," Balin said, patting the over-friendly gatekeeper on the back. He rolled his eyes and pursed his lips. Tauriel covered her mouth with a hand to hide her smile.

Togrod drew back, wiping his eyes. "We must tell all the Longbeards! It is time to go home!" He looked around, beaming, then he looked back at Tauriel, a puzzled expression clouding his face. "Balin, Glóin, and Dwalin are all here...but where are the rest who set out for Erebor? Where is Thorin?"

Balin bowed his head and said gravely, "Thorin is dead."

Togrod gasped. "No!"

"Yes," Balin said, his shoulders drooping. "And so are his nephews, Fíli and Kíli."

"Not the boys!" the gatekeeper exclaimed. "They were so young! Their poor mother...she had lost all her family now."

"That is why I am here," Tauriel murmured. "To deliver the tale of their noble fall to their mother."

Togrod glared up at her. " _Balin_..."

Tauriel gritted her teeth, annoyed that this insolent dwarf wouldn't take her word as good. She looked at Balin, crossing her arms. Let him talk their way out of this one.

"She saw Kíli fall," Balin explained. "She wished to relay the information to poor Dís."

Togrod looked up at her warily, asking, "But aren't elves our enemies?" He was really grasping at straws now, Tauriel thought.

"Not anymore," Glóin interrupted. "Come on, Togrod, let her in."

He shrugged, relenting at last. "All right. But you might want to take the quieter streets, unless you want to explain why she's here to everyone you run across."

"Thanks, Togrod," Dwalin said.

"Yes, thank you," Balin added. He turned to his companions. "Let's go in."

* * *

It took a while for Balin to lead them quietly home, but thanks to an angry-looking Dwalin and a glowering Glóin, nobody bothered Tauriel.

"So...how do you know the gatekeeper?" she asked as they walked.

"He was very enthusiastic when it came to planning the quest," Dwalin explained, "but when it came down to the actual danger and excitement...he got cold feet."

Glóin snorted. "Coward."

"Still a nice fellow," Balin said mildly. "He let us in without much commotion."

"Yes," Tauriel agreed.

By now, the empty road they were walking on opened into a wider street. Glóin let out an excited exclamation and burst into a sprint.

"Where's he going?" Tauriel asked, confused.

"That's his house," Balin said, pointing to a dwelling up the street. "He's excited to be home."

The other three approached at a slower pace. As they neared, Tauriel watched as the door to Glóin's house opened. Another dwarf, presumably his wife, let out a shout of joy and embraced him. Tauriel felt a pang in her heart as she realized her loss of Kíli again. She would never embrace him, never kiss him, never—

She broke off that line of thought, her hand instinctively traveling to the rune stone in her pocket. This would be the last time she held it, for today would be the day she relinquished it to Dís, to whom it rightfully belonged.

"I'm glad he's happy and reunited with his family," Tauriel remarked, "but I came here for a reason. Where does Dís live?"

Dwalin nodded and took a deep breath. "Yes." His voice was heavy with unspoken sorrow and regret. "Of course. Follow me, Tauriel."

Balin lagged behind, stopping to talk to Glóin, his wife, and his son. Dwalin led her to the next house over.

"She and the boys lived here," he said. "Thorin—" His voice cracked a little with repressed grief. "Thorin...Thorin lived across the street, in that house." He pointed to the house in question, a dark and lonely home, so empty and never to be filled now that its owner was dead.

"Dwalin...you know Dís," Tauriel said softly. "I've never even met her. How can I comfort her? I mean—"

"I'll comfort her," Dwalin said. "You can just tell her the story of how Kíli died. I'll tell her of Fíli and Th..." He stopped, blinking heavily to keep tears from falling. Tauriel touched his shoulder gently, waiting for him to continue. She understood his grief for Thorin; it was similar to the grief she held for Kíli.

He cleared his throat and nodded. The moment passed, and she put her hand back by her side.

"Anyway," he said gruffly, "well, I doubt she will like you, after all that happened, but...try your best."

Tauriel nodded. "Well. Let's get this over with."

Dwalin lifted his fist to the door and knocked. Tauriel hung back, feeling nervous and uncomfortable now that she was about to meet her fallen love's mother. She would not be surprised if Dís hated her for not saving her son. In her place, Tauriel would hate her, too. Part of her already did.

A few moments later, the door opened. Standing in the doorway was a female dwarf. She had a long beard, braided and elaborately beaded. Her hair was dark like Kíli's, though her eyes were lighter, and her skin darker. She had a large nose, but smaller ears, and she wore a long dress of dark blue-green.

"Dwalin?" she said in surprise, lifting her bushy eyebrows. "You're back?"

"Yes, Dís," he said. "Balin, Glóin, and I have come to bring our people back to the Lonely Mountain."

Dís broke into a smile. Holding her arms out wide, she stepped forward and embraced Dwalin. He stood stiffly, not hugging her in return.

Dís stepped back, looking at Tauriel curiously. "What are you doing here, elf?" Her tone was not accusing, but merely intrigued. Tauriel found herself relaxing a bit.

"Dís..." Dwalin began. He closed his eyes for a brief moment, gathering strength. "We have...news. May we come in?"

Dís glanced up to Tauriel. "First, tell me your name, elf."

Tauriel bowed her head to the lady in a polite greeting. "I am Tauriel of the Woodland Realm, my lady."

"And what is an elf of Mirkwood doing in a dwarf city?" Dís asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Dís...inside, please," Dwalin murmured, laying a hand on her arm.

"Very well," the lady said stiffly. "Come in, Dwalin; and Tauriel, too. Watch your head. This house was not built for elves."

Tauriel walked in behind Dwalin, closing the door behind her. She took off her shoes when he did, staying quiet as Dís led them to her front room.

"Sit," she invited them. They sat down, Tauriel still stooped due to the low ceiling.

"Now, why is she here, Dwalin? Why couldn't you tell me outside?" Dís demanded.

Dwalin looked down. Without meeting her eyes, he burst out, "Dís...Thorin, Fíli, and Kíli are dead."

All the color drained from the lady's face. Her eyes widened. "No," she whispered in denial. "No!"

"Yes, my lady," Tauriel said, her grief renewed. "I'm afraid it's true." Fresh tears leaked from her eyes. She clutched the promise stone in her hand, not wanting to give it up.

"How did it happen?" Dís whispered, staring off into the distance.

"We had trekked all the way to Erebor, and a man of Lake-town killed Smaug after we flushed him out, but then...the dragonsickness overcame Thorin," Dwalin rasped. "It caused him to do...terrible things. There was a war, between dwarves, elves, and men—only then orcs attacked us. Azog was still alive, he went after the line of Durin, and—" He broke off, his voice cracking. "We couldn't save them. Fíli was caught alone, and...Azog slew him. He fought bravely, Dís, and he did everything he could to protect his brother."

Dís said nothing, only staring off into the distance with blank eyes and a pale face. Dwalin glanced at Tauriel, silently urging her to pick up the story from there.

"My lady, I...I saw Kíli fall," she said, her voice wobbling. "You see...the dwarves traveled through Mirkwood on the way to Erebor, and, well...while they were there, we...struck a liking to one another."

"Am I to believe that Thranduil just let them through?" Dís demanded. "After all he has done?"

"Well...no, actually," Tauriel admitted. "I was the Captain of the Guard. We captured them. They later escaped, but..."

"Dwalin, is this true?" Dís asked. "I find it hard to believe Kíli would fall for...an elf."

"It is true," Dwalin confirmed. "You should have seen him." A bittersweet smile crossed the bald dwarf's face. "The fool was in love."

Tauriel had rarely spoken with Dwalin; mostly she talked with Balin or argued with Glóin. And never had she spoken with the dwarves of Kíli. She loved him, that she knew, beyond everything, even the stars, but though he had acted like it, she had not known for sure if he loved her as such. If only she knew the meaning of that dwarvish word he had spoken on the lakeshore...the way he spoke, so lovingly, and pressed the stone into her hand, and the light in his eyes...it sent shivers down her spine. She had thought it was an "I love you" in his own way, but she had not been sure. She wished she had asked—she wished she had gone with him, had been more sure of herself...perhaps things would have been different.

But that chance was gone now, and here she was, facing his mother. She needed to explain how the poor lady had lost her son.

Dís looked at her, her eyes misty and the curve of her lips unreadable. "So, Tauriel. My son loved you."

"And I loved him," she whispered. "He...after Smaug died, he tried to convince me to come with him to Erebor, but...I couldn't. I had already disobeyed Thranduil by coming after him, to save him from the poison."

"Poison? What poison?" Dís interjected.

"I'm sorry, I'm getting ahead of myself," Tauriel said, shaking her head. "In Mirkwood, he was shot by an orc's poisoned arrow. I followed him to heal him, against Thranduil's orders. I saved him in Laketown, while Smaug attacked, and we escaped."

"Then he asked you to come with him," Dís summarized.

"Yes," Tauriel said. "And then..." She pulled the runestone out of her pocket. "He gave me this. As a promise. Like he promised you."

She handed the stone to Dís. The dwarf lady took it tenderly, tracing the runes she herself had engraved.

"Do you know what it says in Khuzdul?" Dís whispered.

"No," Tauriel answered. Her heart ached; she did not want to know.

" _Return to me_." Dís clenched a fist around the stone. "He promised he would." There was no describing the depth of the pain in the aching voice which spoke those words. Tauriel closed her eyes, grieving along with the lady dwarf. He'd promised to return to Dís; he'd promised to return to her. He'd _promised_.

"During the battle," Dwalin said, interrupting, "he watched as Fíli died. Azog threw his body down, and...you should have seen Kíli. He was so angry. He loved his brother. Thorin—Thorin told him not to be rash, but he ran after Azog anyway, killing everything in sight."

_My mother thinks I'm reckless._ Kíli's words echoed in Tauriel's mind.

_Are you?_ she had asked.

_Nah._

Tauriel closed her eyes to stop the tears. "I was fighting nearby," she said. "I...Bolg attacked me. Kíli ran to help, but..." She swallowed. "He...he was killed." She put her face in her hands. "My lady..."

"Call me Dís," the dwarf said gently. She scooted over to hold Tauriel as she wept.

"Dís...what does _amrâlimê_ mean?" She looked up, meeting Dís's eyes.

"In the common tongue, it means 'love of mine'," she said. "He...he said that to you?"

"Yes," Tauriel whispered.

Dís grabbed her hand and slid the promise stone back into it. "Keep this," she said.

"But, my lady—" Tauriel protested.

"I have much to remember my son by," Dís said. "You have only this. In the end it was a promise to you, not me. Keep it."

_Keep it. As a promise._

Tauriel nodded. "Thank you, Lady Dís," she said, her voice wobbling. "I can never say how sorry I am I could not save him."

"It is not your fault," Dwalin said. "We all share in your grief."

Tauriel nodded, wiping a tear away from her eye. She didn't know what to say. She was supposed to be comforting Dís, not the other way around.

"How did Thorin...die?" Dís asked, turning to Dwalin.

He launched into that story, of which Tauriel could not add to. She ran her fingers over the engravings on the promise stone.

_Love of mine. Return to me._ The words ran through her mind over and over again. She had lost so _much_ —she had lost her innocence, her happiness, her future. She had lost Kíli. Now she had to live for eternity without him, forever alone.

Tauriel felt a single tear drip down her face. "Kíli," she whispered. The stone in her hand echoed with an empty promise. _Return to me_. But he never would.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The other day I uploaded a oneshot where Tauriel meets Maglor while they were both wandering. It could conceivably have happened in the same universe as this fic - if it did, it would probably have happened in the time covered in this chapter.
> 
> This chapter isn't incredibly eventful, but things start to pick up plot-wise next chapter.

 

 

Dís and Dwalin talked for nearly another hour. Tauriel sat next to the dwarves quietly, making the occasional interjection. At last, Dwalin's loud, rumbling belly interrupted them. In true dwarvish fashion, they both laughed loudly.

"Why don't I fix us some dinner?" Dís said.

Dwalin smiled and patted his belly. "I wouldn't say no to that!"

"Dís, that's very kind, but...I really ought to go now," Tauriel said, standing up awkwardly.

"No, no!" Dís protested. "Please. I know you're not too comfortable here, but the least I can do to repay you for coming all this way is to offer you food and rest, at least for one night."

Tauriel sighed, but Dís was right. "Very well, my lady."

The food was nice, though Tauriel was not especially hungry. She didn't gather up the courage to ask Dís who the previous owner of the bed she slept in was.

The next morning she rose early. She gathered her few belongings and quietly opened the door to leave without any uncomfortable goodbyes.

To her surprise, she heard a voice behind her call out, "Tauriel!"

She turned. It was Dwalin, closely followed by Balin, who must have arrived sometime after she had retired the previous night.

"Yes?" she asked softly, not wanting to wake the still-sleeping Dís.

The dwarves stepped closer. "Thank you for accompanying us," Balin said.

Tauriel smiled. "Thank you for inviting me along, kind Balin."

"Thank you for telling your story to Dís," Dwalin added. "It helped her more than you know."

"It was only the right thing to do," she murmured. "But you are welcome, both of you." She nodded her head to them. "I am leaving now, to seek my fortune elsewhere. Good luck in rebuilding Erebor. And goodbye, as I doubt we will see each other again."

"Goodbye, Tauriel," Balin said, his wrinkled face full of sentiment.

"Goodbye, Captain," Dwalin said. "May your journey be peaceful."

"Tell Dís I thank her for the food and bed," Tauriel continued, "and say goodbye to Master Glóin for me. He wasn't too prickly by the end, after all."

The two dwarves chuckled, nodding their agreement. Then, this time really ready to leave, Tauriel stepped through the door and out into the gray, cloudy morning.

* * *

She left Ered Luin before most of the city was awake, meeting no trouble. She traveled rather aimlessly for a while, wandering around the Shire and avoiding Bree. Now that she was alone, she traveled substantially faster.

By the time the Misty Mountains were in view, Tauriel had slowed in her travel. She did not know where to go. Eriador was large but a rather empty land since the fall of Arnor nearly an age ago. Occasionally she ran across a caravan of traveling merchants, but they provided scant company.

She ate little and slept less; even though elves needed these things less than mortals did, she was perhaps too sparing in nourishing her body. She felt empty, and not even the wide night sky brought her any more wonder. She wandered under gray clouds and beneath uncaring skies. Every path felt lonely yet familiar, and none of them seemed to lead home.

It would help if she knew where home _was_. Long ago, it seemed, though really it was very recently, she had called the Greenwood home, but it was no place for her now. Thranduil had all but banished her from Mirkwood, and she could not return. She had no place to go.

From time to time, her hands would turn the promise stone over and over and over again, tracing the runes Dís had translated for her: _Return to me._ She rubbed the cold stone with her thumb, as if that could somehow make Kíli come back to her. She had given too much of herself to him, too much he had taken with him to the Halls of Mandos. Home was where the heart was, so the wise said, but home was buried in a tomb in a faraway mountain she could not return to.

Sometimes, Tauriel would find herself staring east, toward the Lonely Mountain, but she knew she dared not go there. It was not a place she could be happy, and the dwarves would not welcome her. Other times, heart-wrenching grief would overcome her and she would stare fitfully west, toward a land she had heard tell of only from her ancestors who had rejected it. She could not go there, nor did she really want to. Her spirit was too tied to Middle-earth, to its trees and valleys and mountains, to wish to leave while still so young.

But her soul _ached_ , full of the uncertainty of the future and the ever-fresh pain of Kíli's death. She did not fit. She had no place to go. Her home was not a place but a person, and that person was gone.

Sometimes, she considered traveling north to the Dúnedain, as Legolas had, but she did not know if he would welcome her. She had been friends with him for much of her life, but his father had complicated things between them. She hadn't _thought_ he had liked her romantically; certainly she didn't like _him_ that way, but...what if he _had_? What if seeing her with Kíli had been the reason he had left without even a goodbye. Perhaps he didn't want to see her. Perhaps she didn't want to see him.

Eventually, Tauriel traveled south, following the Misty Mountains down to the Gap of Rohan. She abode there for several months, occasionally visiting the wild-spirited horse people when she grew lonely. Mostly, she kept to herself.

One day, she purchased a map from a man of Rohan, desiring to know where she was. She noticed she was not very far from Lothlórien, where dwelt the heart of elvendom on earth, and two of the wisest elves not yet departed. She decided to go there, at least to see some of her own kind again.

Most of the elves there were Silvan, her kin, but their leaders were Galadriel, a Noldo with Vanyar blood, and Celeborn, her Sinda husband. She had heard rumor of them in Mirkwood, though only Thranduil had ever met them. She knew they were wise beyond measure, Galadriel especially. Perhaps they could aid her in her search for peace and lend her their wisdom in where her future lay.


	6. Chapter 6

Tauriel reached Lothlórien in mid summer. She came to the borders of the golden forest and camped there for the night, unsure of the welcome she would receive when she tried to enter. Most of the elves there were Silvan, like her. Perhaps they would show some kinship to her. Or perhaps not.

The morning rose, and she entered the wood. She walked quietly, keeping her senses alert. She did not wish to be surprised by an enemy.

She had not walked long when she heard light footsteps approaching her. She drew an arrow to her bow and pointed her weapon at the sound warily. It was likely an elf, but she did not wish to risk the chance of being caught by an enemy unawares.

Out of the forest appeared three elves, their bows drawn as well. One was blond, and taller than the rest; he led the group, seemingly in charge. The others both had soft brown hair, though they were all similar in features.

"Who are you, and why have you come to our lands?" the blond one asked her roughly in the common tongue. He must be on a border patrol. Perhaps he was Captain of the Guard, as she had been. None of them lowered their weapons.

Cautiously, Tauriel dropped her weapons at her feet, staring the blond elf in the eyes. He glanced at the the elf on his left, but made no move to pick up her weapons.

"I am Tauriel," she said, responding to him in Sindarin, which he was sure to speak. "I come to seek...a home, at least for a little while. I mean no threat to you or your people."

Cautiously, the blond elf lowered his bow. The other two kept theirs pointing straight at her.

"Where do you hail from, Tauriel?" he asked, switching over to Sindarin.

She paused. The Woodland Realm would be the obvious answer, but it felt like an eternity ago since she had last seen her homeland. "I was born in the Greenwood, but I have been traveling of late."

The blond elf, deciding she was not a threat, put away his weapons. So did the other two. Tauriel leaned down to retrieve hers and put them away as well.

"I am Haldir," he introduced himself. "These are my brothers, Rúmil and Orophin."

Rúmil and Orophin murmured their greetings. Tauriel nodded to them.

"We patrol these borders," Haldir explained. "Lothlórien has not seen bloodshed in many years, but we remain ever watchful."

"That is wise," Tauriel said. "In the Greenwood, we were not so fortunate. Orcs, spiders, and other monsters were commonplace. As Captain of the King's Guard, I saw my fair share of battle there."

Haldir's eyebrows raised in interest. "Captain of the King's Guard?"

"Yes," Tauriel confirmed. "Though...not any longer. Not since the Battle of the Five Armies."

"I see you have quite a story," Haldir said. "Come. My brothers and I will bring you to our halls, where you may find food and rest."

"Forgive me if I keep some of my tale to myself," she said, following them. "It is painful to recall." She fingered the promise stone in her pocket.

"Of course," Haldir agreed.

They walked for a short while. Tauriel commented on her surroundings, and Haldir began to explain the ways of his people and the secrets of the forest, with occasional interjections from Rúmil and Orophin.

"Your customs are different than ours," Tauriel remarked, "for all we are both Silvan."

"Yes," Haldir agreed. "Your conditions are different. You have had a great malice in your forest, and must deal with it accordingly. We in Lothlórien have, for the most part, used our swords only in practice."

Tauriel nodded. Rúmil stopped walking, and so did his brothers.

"We are here," Haldir announced.

At first, Tauriel didn't see where "here" was. Then she noticed the three brothers staring up. She followed their gaze and gasped softly.

Now she saw. Staircases spiraled around huge tree trunks, leading up to houses in the boughs and branches. Elves went about their business, and now that she was paying attention, she could hear them and feel their presence.

Orophin looked at his brothers. "I am hungry. I'll see you all later." He nodded to Tauriel and walked away.

Rúmil unsheathed his belt dagger and examined it critically. "I think I'll sharpen my weapons. Goodbye, Haldir."

"Goodbye, Rúmil," Haldir said. He glanced at Tauriel. "Our patrol is over," he explained. "Now. I can take you to a place where you can spend the night."

"Do I not need to ask your leaders if I may stay?" Tauriel asked. In the Woodland Realm—well, in Thranduil's halls, at least—the Elvenking would have required it.

Haldir shook his head. "You are our kin. If you were one of the race of men, perhaps. But Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn need not be bothered. We trust you, though I do admit that we do not receive outsiders into our lands often."

Tauriel inclined her head gratefully and said nothing. She was glad to be welcomed and trusted, but she had come here with the intent to gain wisdom and counsel from the Lord and Lady of Lothlórien. She did not intend to stay here forever.

Haldir led her to her own small house in the treetops. She dropped her few belongings there and allowed him to show her around. She found the armory, the soldiers' mess hall, and a clothing shop. She was relieved to discover a spring where she could bathe. Baths had been scarce in the wild.

After thanking him for his hospitality, Tauriel bade Haldir farewell and set to recuperating in civilization. First, she went to the clothing shop. Using the scant coinage she had, she bought a new outfit of brown forest colors. Next she took her new clothes to the spring.

She bathed there, then washed her old garments. Dressed in her new clothes, she returned to her house and hung the wet ones out to dry.

Next, Tauriel took her weapons and headed to the armory. After explaining her situation to the head armorer, he was happy to help her. She traded in the man-made bow Bard had given to her for one crafted by the Galadhrim, much higher in quality. She restocked her arrows, sharpened her daggers, and thanked the armorer for his assistance.

Now both clean and restocked, Tauriel found herself suddenly exhausted. She put her things away, laid down on the cot that had been provided for her, and decided to take a long rest.

* * *

Tauriel stayed in Lothlórien for a few months. She ate and trained with the soldiers, befriending some of them. She never told anyone exactly why she was there and not still residing in the Greenwood. The Lothlórien elves respected her privacy. She imagined they had their own ideas about her circumstances, though she doubted any were near the truth.

She took to wandering at night. She was not the only elf in the wood to do so. Many times she heard quiet murmurs or footsteps, but she was never disturbed. In daylight, she might seek out company, but at night she desired only to be alone with her thoughts.

A strange numbness had crept over her. It had been nearly a year since the few fateful days that had changed her life so irrevocably. She had burned with a fire and a passion then, speaking her mind and never second-guessing her instincts. Now, she was more subdued. She had seen the harsh realities of the world, and the grief and heartbreak that accompanied willful battles.

She remembered her own deep, heart-wrenching, soul-shattering sorrow after Kíli's death. She remembered her slow, painful recovery, alone in Dale with nothing to comfort her save for Thranduil's last words to her, _It was real_. She _knew_ that. The pain she felt was proof enough of that. She had been so bitter and angry at the world, at him, at herself. It was only at the funeral where she let that anger go, knowing it was not what Kíli would have wanted her to feel.

But some of her fire had passed with the anger. She was sadder, now, and more pensive. She spoke less, and not just for lack of companions to speak to. This troubled her, but not as much as it should, perhaps.

Traveling with the dwarves had given her a sense of purpose, an end goal. Reaching that goal had only reopened her painful wounds that had just begun to heal. Dís's fresh grief and quiet acceptance pained her. No one deserved to have lost as much as she had. Tauriel knew. She had suffered loss as well, though after a different fashion.

When she had gone her own way, she had begun to wander. She had hoped it would give her some new purpose, a new light. It did not. After months of aimless wandering, she had come to Lothlórien. But dwelling here, even among her kin, she still felt alone. These elves were not her people. She missed her friends in Mirkwood. She missed her forest. She missed her duty, her passion, her fire. But she could not return. Thranduil had never rescinded her banishment. She was not welcome in her home anymore.

Home. Did she even want a home? A literal, physical house—that she had, here in Lothlórien. It gave her no peace. It did not feel like it was hers.

Tauriel missed the stars. In the Greenwood, she had traveled beyond the forest to see them in all their splendor. But she did not do that now. She was too afraid of the memories they might bring her.

"Tauriel," said a soft voice behind her, startling her out of her deep thought. She whirled around, unsheathing her daggers instinctively.

She beheld before her an elf of impossible beauty. Her hair was long and golden, her eyes blue like a pond in sunlight. Her skin was fair and smooth, her smile soft. A power, or magic, seemed to emit from her—subtle, but strong. Though Tauriel had not before seen her in her stay in Lothlórien, there could be no doubt who this elf was: Galadriel, Lady of Light.

Tauriel resheathed her knives and bowed to her. "My lady, I am honored," she murmured. She had long wished for Galadriel's counsel—it was the reason she had come here in the first place—but now that she was face to face with her, she did not know what to say.

Galadriel walked toward her. "Tauriel, there is no need to bow."

She rose. "My lady, what brings you here?"

"You are troubled," she said quietly. "I have known you were here for a long time. I did not know why, but..now that I stand before you, I can see." She leaned forward and touched Tauriel's chin. Tauriel stiffened, uncomfortable with the level of close contact.

"You have suffered a great loss," Galadriel continued. "You have been changed by it. You are lost. You do not know where to go."

"Yes, my lady," she said, her voice trembling.

"Whom did you love?" Galadriel asked softly, releasing her.

"My love," she whispered, purposefully being vague. "He fell...he died in the Battle of the Five Armies."

Galadriel nodded. "And you mourn him still?"

"With all my heart." Tauriel's voice cracked. "I will never see him again—we had such little time together...I have wandered ever since. I do not know how to go on. I thought coming here, receiving counsel from you, my lady, being surrounded by my kin...I thought it would give me some solace."

"But it has not," Galadriel murmured. She looked Tauriel in the eye. Tauriel shivered slightly, awed by her beauty. "The past brings you no comfort, but it will do you no good to retreat into yourself and ignore all you have faced. Find an outlet for your pain. Do not let it consume you."

Tauriel nodded. She had found a hole in her life since the battle, but she had done nothing to fill it. She took out Kíli's promise stone and turned it over in her hands, mulling over her options.

"Thank you, my lady," Tauriel said, bowing to her again. "Your counsel has done me good, I hope. But..." She hesitated. "I do not wish to stay here. Lothlórien is not my home. I do not know where my home is, but it is not here."

"Go to Rivendell," Galadriel suggested. "You may find it not to be your home, either, but Elrond may have further guidance for you. He is caught between worlds as you are, Tauriel who has been touched by dwarven hands, and he, too, knows great loss because of it."

Tauriel stiffened. She had not told Galadriel that Kíli was a dwarf. Was it that obvious? Or was she that powerfully observant?

However she knew, she was right. Lord Elrond Peredhel, the Half-Elven, knew loss. If the stories that had reached the Greenwood were true, he was half man, and his brother had chosen to die among men. He could, perhaps, comfort her, being much older and wiser than she. And Rivendell was a kindly place, she knew. She would go.

"Thank you, Lady Galadriel," she said again.

"You are welcome, child," Galadriel said, smiling softly.

Tauriel looked down briefly to put away her promise stone. When she looked up, the Lady of Light was gone.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter introduces an OC. I hope you like her, but uh, just keep in mind this is not a particularly happy story. (trying to warn you + trying not to spoil anything = vagueness)

Tauriel left Lothlórien the next day and traveled north to Rivendell. She braved the mountains and met no trouble save the cold as she crossed them. She ate lembas leaf, a gift from the Galadhrim, and slept only when she needed to. She was alone, and though she felt still sad and lost, she felt better knowing at least that she had a destination in mind, however temporary it might be.

She reached the valley of Imladris in early autumn. The leaves had begun to turn, and their fiery reds and golds made her hair seem less outlandish and out of place. She walked about unhooded, no longer fearing the attention her hair might call to her.

She approached the borders of Rivendell cautiously but openly, wishing that a border patrol, if this place had one, would find her. After a few days of encountering nothing but trees and birds, she grew bolder.

Tauriel walked straight up to Rivendell's main entrance. It was not an entirely obvious place, she thought. The valley hid its secrets to protect them. But it was not very hard to locate. She walked through to the gates and was immediately met by a guard.

"My lady, what brings you here?" the guard asked her.

Tauriel noticed with some surprise that she had drawn no weapons. This was an awfully trusting place.

"I come to speak to Lord Elrond," she said. "Lady Galadriel directed me here from Lothlórien."

The guard raised her eyebrows in surprise. "I see! Very well, my lady. I will bring you to Lindir. He will be able to help you."

"Thank you," Tauriel said, nodding to her. She led her through Rivendell's paths up to a building where an elf sat writing, a frown of concentration on his face.

"Lindir," the guard called from the entryway.

The elf looked up. Seeing the guard and Tauriel, he set down his quill and rose, nodding to her.

"How may I help you?" he asked, looking at Tauriel.

Tauriel bowed to him. "My lord, I come from Lothlórien, seeking counsel from Lord Elrond. Lady Galadriel sent me." She was not usually one to drop names, but she wished to see Elrond as soon as possible. Galadriel's favor may influence the urgency of Lindir's message to him.

Lindir nodded. "My lord Elrond is busy at the moment, but I will tell him you have arrived. What is your name?"

"I am Tauriel," she said.

"Tauriel." He nodded. "Yes. Losseth, could you kindly take our guest somewhere she can stay for the time being?"

The guard nodded. "Follow me, Lady Tauriel."

As Losseth led her away, Tauriel said, "I am no lady or lord. I am only a servant of my king...and even that no longer."

"You are our guest," she said. "We will treat you kindly."

"Thank you," Tauriel murmured. "Your hospitality makes my hardships easier to bear."

"I'm glad to hear that," Losseth said, "though personally, I'm just excited to see a new face!" She smiled at her. Tauriel hesitantly smiled back.

Losseth led her to a small building not far away from the gates.

"Here is where you may stay," she said. "When Lindir has news for you concerning Lord Elrond, he will find you here."

Tauriel set aside her few belongings next to the comfortable-looking bed that the house provided. It had been a long time since she had slept in a real bed that actually fitted her.

"Thank you, Lady Losseth," she said to the kind guard.

The guard smiled. "Lady yourself! You are very welcome. If you are ever in need of some company during your stay, ask the guard house for me."

"I will." If she planned to stay here for a while, it would be nice to have a companion. In Lothlórien, she had been alone, for the most part. Here, it seemed she had already met a friend.

Losseth left. Tauriel realized that she had been craving good company. She had not had a close friend since before her exile. She had had Legolas then, and companions among the guard, but she had not seen any of them since the battle. She had told no one of her thoughts or sadness save Galadriel, and Dís way back when. All her grief for Kíli had been solely contained and bottle up. Perhaps that was why it was so hard for her to move on.

Her hand found its way to the promise stone in her pocket. She carried it beside her always, a reminder of all she had lost. Her grief welled up inside her again. She fought to push it back, to focus on what was going on around her now.

Rivendell was a beautiful place. She admired the architecture and the gentle climate. She was sure it was protected by Elrond's own magic, as Lothlórien had been by Galadriel. She was curious as to how, but she doubted anyone would tell her. She was, after all, an outsider.

She wondered how extensive Elrond's library was. In the Greenwood, she had liked to read, though her duties as Captain of the Guard didn't often allow her much leisure time to do so. If she was to stay here, perhaps she could make reading a hobby once again.

Tauriel stayed in the house for a day. She spent her time unpacking her bow and re-inventorying her few possessions. She cleaned her bow and sharpened her daggers. She pressed her map flat overnight, then folded it up the next morning.

She had run out of busywork to do and was considering going to find Losseth when at last Lindir arrived.

"My lady Tauriel," he said politely, "come with me. Lord Elrond will see you now."

She rose and followed him, suddenly buzzing with nerves. this was not like her chance meeting with Galadriel in Lothlórien. She had expressly asked to see Lord Elrond, rather than simply waiting for him to find her.

Lindir led her to Elrond's study. Tauriel thanked him the door and entered. She had been vague with Galadriel (not that it had really done anything), but she felt that honesty was probably the best idea if she truly wanted counsel and guidance from Elrond. Still, she was not very excited about baring her soul to a complete stranger.

Elrond was reading when she arrived. Tauriel coughed to make herself known. He put down his book and turned to smile at her.

He was a kindly-looking elf, though an ancient sadness and wisdom hid behind his eyes. Tauriel felt a bit more at ease. If he was anything like Galadriel had said he was, he surely would be able to help her.

"Tauriel," he greeted her. "Please. Sit."

"Thank you, my lord," she murmured, sitting down across for him. A desk was between them.

"Lindir says you were sent here by Lady Galadriel," Elrond said.

"Yes," she confirmed.

"Do you bear a message?" he asked.

She shook her head. "No, my lord. I am Tauriel of the Woodland Realm. Lady Galadriel sent me here to ask for your wisdom."

"My wisdom?" Elrond chuckled. "I doubt those are her exact words. My wisdom was never something she valued while I was courting her daughter."

Tauriel leaned back a little, feeling uneasy. "Uh...yes. She said we have circumstances in common and that you might be able to help me...move on from my grief."

Elrond's face grew sober. "I see." He sighed. "Yes, that is something I have experience with. How can I aid you?"

Tauriel launched into her story. "Nearly a year ago, I was the Captain of Thranduil's Guard. I did my job well, though he and I disagreed on policy often." She smiled a little, remembering. It all seemed so long ago, though really it had not been compared to the eternity of her life before and after. "One day, the Company of Thorin Oakenshield trespassed into our lands."

"They did the same to us," Elrond murmured.

"We captured them, and, well...I took a liking to one of them." Tauriel closed her eyes as she remembered. "His name was Kíli."

Elrond nodded. "I think I recall him. Thorin's nephew, the one without much beard?"

"Yes," she said. "We...I do not know exactly how or why, but we fell in love."

Elrond raised his eyebrows. "An elf and a dwarf? That is unheard of."

"It is unusual," Tauriel admitted, hoping he would not find the notion too offensive, "but his hands were gentle, his words kind, and our souls were alike in our love of our peoples and our need for freedom. My lord, you are half-elven. Surely you can understand?"

Elrond frowned. "Empathy I cannot give you, not with what I know. But sympathy...I can manage that. My brother, Elros...he chose to become a man when the Valar offered as the choice long ago. I know there are those who have desires other than my own."

"Thank you, my lord," she murmured. "I am afraid my tale does not have a happy ending. In the Battle of the Five Armies...Kíli died."

Elrond looked at her gravely. "I had heard...I did not seem to connect the two thoughts until now. Tauriel...my sincerest condolences. I am sorry for your loss."

"I have wandered since," she said. "I have lived for six hundred years and will live much longer, but Kíli...he uprooted my life in only a few days. I have been banished from the Greenwood for treason...I have no home. I went to Lothlórien, seeking guidance and rest, but I found none. Lady Galadriel directed me to you, my lord." She looked at him helplessly. "I do not like to beg, but I do not know what to do. I cannot go back to the Greenwood."

She stopped talking, waiting for him to say something. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He opened his eyes and looked at her gravely.

"My brother chose a mortal life," he said. "I watched him fade slowly until death. My parents left me as a child, a war tearing us apart. My wife, dear Celebrían...she was hurt gravely in these lands and sailed from these shores to recover. All I have left are my studies, my children, and my duties to these realms."

He reached forward and took her hand gently. "Loss cuts like a knife. It will hurt forever. I will never see my brother again, for he has gone on to receive Ilúvatar's gift...It hurts. I do not know what fate lies ahead of you, Tauriel, but pain will be a constant companion of yours."

Tauriel nodded. She knew he was right. The pain had lessened, had become less prominent, but it was still there.

"But there is hope," Elrond continued. "I have found solace in my life through my studies, and the remnants of my family. Find something to help you cope. You will feel better if you are not alone, as well."

"Where ought I to go, my lord?" she asked.

"You may stay here, if you wish," he offered. "Rivendell can be your home. We are, after all, a haven to those lost, like myself, and like you."

Tauriel bowed her head, mulling it over. He had only confirmed what her mind had been leading to. She would find work, find friends. She would recover. She already felt welcomed here, by both Elrond himself and the guard Losseth. She could build herself back up here.

"Yes, my lord," she said. "I would like to stay here, for the time being."

"I will arrange for more permanent quarters to be found for you," he said, sitting up in a businesslike manner. "You could become a guard, if you wished. Have that duty once again."

"Perhaps not right away," she said, "but someday...I would like that."

"Good." Elrond picked up his quill and resumed his writing. "Lindir can help you, if he is still waiting outside."

"Thank you, my lord," she said.

"I am glad to be of help." Elrond smiled. "Welcome to Rivendell, Tauriel."


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We're getting more into the events of LotR now. I hope you like it! Thanks for commenting!

Tauriel lived in Rivendell for nearly sixty years, rebuilding herself. After a year of recovery, she took Elrond up on his offer and joined the guard. It was not a difficult job. She rarely was forced to use her weapons, save in practice. She found the other elves in the Guard to be skilled warriors. Most of them were much older than she was, but Losseth was only a couple hundred years her elder.

She stuck by Losseth's side at first, as she was the only person she knew, but eventually she found a similar camaraderie with the Rivendell elves as she had in the Woodland Realm. Losseth reminded her very much of one of her old friends, Midhel. She had not seen Midhel since her banishment. She wondered how she was doing from time to time, but nothing ever came of it.

Losseth and Tauriel became good friends, though Tauriel never revealed to her or anyone else other than Elrond how or why she had come to Imladris.

Tauriel was one the few Silvan elves in Rivendell. Most of the valley's population, including Losseth, were Sindar, with some Noldor like as Elrond and his family. Tauriel sometimes accompanied Losseth and some others of the Guard out hunting with Elladan and Elrohir. She met the Lady Arwen a few times, though she never really got to know any of Elrond's family.

One day, she was on duty by the gates when she heard the sound of a horse's thundering hooves. Tauriel drew her bow, exchanging a confused glance with Losseth.

"Who could that be?" she asked. She doubted it was an enemy—though evil creatures had begun to creep back into the west, most avoided Rivendell.

"Lady Arwen, perhaps?" Losseth suggested. "She went out riding a few days ago."

"I guess we'll see," Tauriel said. She had an arrow nocked to her bow, but she held it loosely, not expecting any trouble. If she had been back in the Greenwood, it would have been a different story.

The thundering sound grew closer and louder, then through the gates burst a horse. Lady Arwen sat upon it, cradling a small, limp body. Tauriel's eyes widened. Was it a child?

Arwen stopped her horse short and called up to the guards, "Come! Help me!"

Tauriel and Losseth scrambled down from their posts and raced toward her. As she neared, Tauriel realized that the body was not that of a child, but of a halfling.

Arwen cradled the halfling in her arms and gently handed him down to Losseth. Arwen got down from her horse and then helped Losseth support him.

"We must take him to the healers," she said urgently. "Quickly—he's fading fast!"

"I'll stay on duty," Tauriel said quickly. "Losseth, go with her ladyship."

The two elf women hurried off, carrying the unconscious halfling as best they could. Tauriel, still unsure of what was going on, unsheathed her knives, just in case part of Lady Arwen's need for haste was that she was being followed.

After not very long, she heard the sound of more people approaching. Tauriel tensed, her eyes locked on the gate. She was ready to attack.

Soon, four peculiar figures marched up to her: a ragged, careworn man and three more halflings.

"Halt!" she commanded. "Who goes there?"

The man nodded to her, waving a hand at the halflings. One of them whispered to another, "Look, Merry, another elf!"

"Hush, Pippin!" the other one hissed. The third only stared up at her with wide eyes.

" _Mellon_ ," the man said in greeting. Tauriel lowered her weapons and raised her eyebrows. He spoke Sindarin? He was likely not a threat, then.

"You must be new to this post," he said. "I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn. I was raised here, by Lord Elrond. Please—Lady Arwen took our companion through here earlier. He is gravely injured."

"Aragorn?" she asked. That name sounded familiar. Tauriel was not too caught up in Elrond's family politics and did not know much about any man being raised in Rivendell. And it _was_ true—she had only been assigned to this post for a few years.

"I was known as Estel," Aragorn explained.

Tauriel's mind cleared. Yes. She remembered now. She had never met the little child, but she had heard stories of young Estel.

"Lady Arwen took him to the healers," she said, pointing the way. "Do you need an escort?"

"No, I know the way. Thank you," he said. She stood aside as he passed, leading the halflings along behind him.

Losseth came back not long afterward, their relief guard with her. Tauriel relaxed and followed her friend to the mess hall. As they walked together, they talked and wondered at the sights they had just seen.

"Did Lady Arwen let anything slip about what was going on with the halflings?" Tauriel asked.

Losseth shook her head. "Not really. We carried him to the healers, then she sent me to fetch Lord Elrond. When I came back here, I passed three more halflings, and—would you believe it—little Estel, all grown up! It's been awhile since he lived here. He's been off with the Dúnedain for a long time."

"Yes, I let them in," Tauriel said. "I've never met him before."

"He was a sweet little child," Losseth said. "He's much different now that he's older, though. Tall and handsome—or at least Lady Arwen seems to think so!"

Tauriel laughed. "Really?"

"Oh, we all know the young man was in love with her, but something's changed with her ladyship." Losseth frowned. "I _do_ hope she gets over it, though. Nothing good ever comes of interspecies relationships. Just look at all Lord Elrond has gone through because of it..."

Tauriel nodded, but her heart sank. Losseth was right. Relationships between elves and mortals never ended happily, she knew firsthand. But she did not like the tone of voice Losseth spoke in, as if Aragorn and Arwen were doomed simply because they were different. What would she think if she knew Tauriel had loved a dwarf?

* * *

Tauriel and Losseth soon learned something very big was happening. They, being guards and not Elrond's advisors or confidants, were not exactly in the know of all the details, but all of Rivendell was abuzz with the news.

Estel was back, all grown up and with important responsibilities. He was some human prince, Tauriel learned, a distant relative of Lord Elrond. The four halflings he brought with him were on some sort of quest, the details of which she wasn't sure of. The injured one was being treated by Elrond and his best healers. Even Mithrandir, who also looked much worse for wear, arrived suddenly in the valley and became involved.

Tauriel was deathly curious of what was going on, but she did not think she would find out. Losseth theorized that the halflings were somehow related to the old halfling who lived in the citadel by invitation of Elrond. Tauriel had never met him, but she had seen him at a distance. She thought the idea he was involved unlikely, but it was possible.

One day, Elladan dropped in to visit the off duty guards. He was friends with Ivorion, the Captain of the Guard, and Tauriel hung around to listen to them talk.

"Yes, they are all already on their way," Elladan confirmed.

"The delegates?" Ivorion asked.

"Yes," Elladan said. "My father said this Council will be of utmost importance and secrecy, so I can't tell you any details, but I do know of some who are coming."

"Well, do tell, Elladan!" Ivorion exclaimed.

"Dáin of Erebor is sending someone," Elladan said, "and so is Denethor of Gondor. So is Círdan from the Gray Havens. Aragorn and Mithrandir are already here. Oh, and I heard Thranduil was sending someone as well."

Tauriel's eyes widened as she eavesdropped on the other side of the room. As she pretended to be very interested in her nails, Elladan and Ivorion moved onto other topics.

Thranduil was sending someone...well, at least he wasn't coming herself. Perhaps it would be someone she knew. Her old friend Midhel, or...maybe Legolas.

As she saw Losseth poke her head in the room and beckon for her, Tauriel left Elladan and Ivorion's conversation. Losseth would love to hear these new details.

* * *

Soon the delegates began to arrive. The sick halfling had finally woken after three days, and the Council of Elrond was to be held when he recovered fully. Tauriel was off duty when Galdor, the messenger Círdan had sent from the Gray Havens, arrived. When Denethor's son arrived, he came through the back gate, looking awfully lost, so she heard. That was not her post—she manned the main gate.

She nervously awaited the coming of Thranduil's delegates. She had not kept her place of origin a secret, but she did not really want the elves of Rivendell to learn why she had left. In fact, she considered concealing her presence there completely from whoever Thranduil sent. It would be hard to do so if she was on duty when they marched through the gate, however.

Losseth could tell she was uncomfortable discussing these possibilities and didn't press her for details, though she did ask once if Tauriel was looking forward to seeing some of her own kin. Tauriel's awkward silence in response dissuaded any further questions.

Tauriel had the luck of being on guard duty when Dáin's party of dwarves stomped up to the gates, looking very out of place. It was rare to see anyone but an elf in Rivendell—these past few days had been very unusual.

Tauriel's eyes widened in surprise as she realized that she recognized one of the dwarves. Flaming red beard, a large nose, grumpy disposition—this could only be—

"Glóin?" she exclaimed.

To her surprise, the other dwarf was the one that glanced over to her in response. This one had a gray beard, but Tauriel immediately realized that this one was, indeed, Glóin. He had simply aged. The other one seemed much too young, now that she got a good look at them both. Time changed mortals in peculiar ways.

"Captain Tauriel?" Glóin said.

Tauriel grinned. "Yes, it is me!"

Glóin laughed. He rushed toward her and embraced her roughly. Surprised by his affection, Tauriel patted his back awkwardly, though she was glad to see him.

Losseth and the other dwarf looked at the two of them in shock. Elves and dwarves were generally hostile to each other—this level of familiarity was unheard of. Tauriel wondered what Losseth would think if she knew how close she'd gotten to Kíli!

A stab of grief interrupted their happy reunion at Kíli's memory. However, determined to be happy, she pushed it aside. Glóin let go of her and smiled up at her.

"I had no idea you would be here in Rivendell!" he exclaimed.

"And I had no idea you would be the one Dáin sent!" she countered.

Glóin noticed Losseth and the other dwarf's confused looks and turned to them.

"Tauriel and I knew each other many years ago, when we were—" he began to explain.

"—traveling together," she said, quickly cutting him off. Doubtless Losseth would not be satisfied with that answer, but she would do the proper explaining in private, if at all. She didn't know if she wanted her friend to know the truth. "Before I came to Rivendell, nearly sixty years ago. We hated each other, at first, but—"

"She grew on me," Glóin said.

"Only after I saved your life," Tauriel teased.

"I was doing fine," he complained. "I had it under control. But yes—it took awhile, but we are friends now."

"I didn't think I'd ever see you again!" Tauriel said.

"Nor I, you!" Glóin said. "I suppose fate had other things in mind."

"Who _are_ you?" Losseth asked. She seemed to be on guard and hostile still, for all it was clear these were Dáin's delegates and old friends of Tauriel's. "I mean..." She trailed off, realizing how accusatory she sounded. "What are your names?"

"Forgive me." Glóin nodded to Losseth. "I am Glóin, son of Gróin. This is my son, Gimli."

The younger dwarf smiled at Tauriel and nodded, though he seemed a bit confused and not quite happy to be there.

"King Dáin sent us with a message, and also, I heard, to take part in this council," Glóin said.

"I can take you to someone who can show you your lodgings," Tauriel offered.

"I'll stay on duty, then," Losseth said unenthusiastically.

"Thank you, Losseth," she said. As she led Glóin and Gimli to where she hoped she could find Lindir, the two of them caught up on the past sixty years.

Tauriel didn't have much to say (at least, not that she was willing to share). She had come to Rivendell and become a guard. Not much had happened in those sixty years, and indeed they did not seem very long compared to how long she had lived before. All the news she had was recent, about the Council of Elrond. And she did not even know much about that.

Glóin gave her news of Erebor's recovery and growth. The Lonely Mountain prospered, trading with Dale—and, to Tauriel's surprise, the Woodland Realm. Peace reigned—for the most part.

"There have been troubling things afoot," Glóin said at one point, frowning. "Ill tidings and threats."

"That is not, perhaps, information to be shared with Elrond's guards," Gimli cut in. He eyed Tauriel warily. "We ought to save that for the Council."

Tauriel raised an eyebrow at him, but said nothing. Glóin frowned.

"Yes, perhaps you're right," he admitted. "It is not supposed to be common knowledge. I am sorry, Captain Tauriel."

"I am not a Captain here, just the gate guard," Tauriel said. The conversation spiralled off into a different direction. She inquired how Dwalin and Balin were doing. Glóin revealed that while Dwalin remained in Erebor, Balin had led a company to reclaim the ancient dwarf kingdom of Moria. Tauriel hoped he was successful, though the thought worried her. From what she had heard, that was a dangerous place.

Soon she saw Lindir talking with some unfamiliar elves. She frowned, recognizing the make of their clothes. It was much like her own from the Greenwood. Her heart sank as she realized who they were—Thranduil's envoys. And leading them, though she could only see the back of his blond-haired head, was Legolas.

She backed away. "Lindir will help you now, Glóin," she murmured to him. "I must go. Farewell! I shall try to find you later!"

"But, Tauriel—" Glóin said in confusion.

"Goodbye!" She turned and hurried back to the gate, her heart pounding. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Legolas turn and see her. He opened his mouth in shock, but she turned down a path and was gone.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if that last chapter seemed suspiciously not angsty, fear not, the angst has returned.

Tauriel spent the next few days avoiding Legolas—and Losseth, as well, when she was not on duty. She could tell this upset her friend, but she had no idea how to tell her how she knew Glóin or how to answer the inevitable questions about how she had come to Rivendell in the first place. She felt very guilty ignoring her kind, well-meaning friend, but it was too much for her.

Seeing Legolas again was also too much. Here was a painful reminder of another friendship that had been ruined. She hadn't spoken to him after the battle so long ago. He had left for the Dúnedain, and she was too busy mourning Kíli to feel bad about that, too.

It was in times like this when she missed Kíli most. She missed what he could have been to her: a confidant, a shoulder to cry on, a best friend. If they'd had their chance, their time...

She broke off that line of thought. She really ought to just tell Losseth everything. It would be better than hiding and being vague and secretive. And if Losseth truly was her friend, she would still love her after learning Tauriel had fallen in love with a dwarf, betrayed her king and people, and hidden her past from her closest friend.

Well, putting it that way, maybe it wasn't such a good idea.

Eventually, the day after Council of Elrond, Tauriel mustered all her courage and went to find Losseth. They had been on duty together in the morning, a cold and uncomfortable silence between them. Now, at last, that would come to an end.

Losseth was in her rooms, quietly writing, when Tauriel came across her.

"Um...Losseth?" she said. "Can I come in?"

Losseth looked up at her and pursed her lips. "I suppose."

Tauriel looked down guiltily as she walked inside. Losseth was angry, and for good reason.

"Have you come to explain why you've been avoiding and ignoring me for the past several days?" Losseth demanded as Tauriel sat across from her.

"Yes," Tauriel said quietly. "Losseth—I'm sorry. I never meant for this to happen—I just—"

"Just tell me why," Losseth said, crossing her arms and glaring at her.

Tauriel took a deep breath. "I knew you'd ask me how I met Glóin, why I was traveling with him so long ago. I didn't want to have to explain, so I just...avoided you. But that was wrong. I'm sorry."

"I don't _understand_ ," Losseth said. She didn't seem quite so angry now, but hurt and confused. "Why couldn't you just _tell_ me?"

"I know how you feel about dwarves," Tauriel said. "You're just like the others, you hate them because they're different from you."

"I don't _hate_ them," Losseth protested. "But, I mean...they're _dwarves_. They're ugly, and rude, and _stupid_. We're enemies, anyway."

"If we're enemies, how come we welcomed Glóin and Gimli to the Council?" Tauriel asked. "Besides—you can't just assume things about an entire race like that!"

Losseth scowled, her pretty features marred by her anger. "Just get to the point, Tauriel."

"I met Glóin after I left the Greenwood," Tauriel said, looking down at her hands. "I... Thranduil had banished me from his kingdom."

" _Banished_?" Losseth exclaimed. "Is _that_ why you left? —What did you do?"

"I disobeyed his orders. I was the Captain of the Guard, a loyal warrior, for all I disagreed with his politics sometimes. Then...one day, a group of dwarves trespassed into our forest." Tauriel bit her lip, unsure of how to phrase this next part. "I took a liking to one of them. Then they escaped—"

"You didn't help them escape?" Losseth said, her eyes wide in horror.

"No!" Tauriel exclaimed. She was a traitor, technically, but she wasn't _that_ much of a traitor. All she had done had been because she had thought it was right. "But I did disobey Thranduil's orders not to follow them. They were trying to reclaim Erebor, and—"

"You were involved with _that_?" Losseth said incredulously.

"I had to go," she said. "Kíli was injured, I needed to save him...not that it didn't stop him from dying in the Battle of the Five Armies."

"You didn't _fall in love_ with a _dwarf_?" Losseth exclaimed. Tauriel looked up. To her dismay, Losseth seemed disgusted. She was pulling a face and her eyebrows were furrowed.

"He was so smart, and kind, and funny," Tauriel whispered, desperately trying to explain. "And he liked me, too. We...Losseth, please."

Losseth looked at her like she was crazy. "And you met that Glóin character through your dwarf lover?"

"After Kíli died, Glóin and some other dwarves invited me to come along with them to deliver the news to Kíli's mother." Tauriel was just saying these things now. Losseth was beyond reach now—there was no way she could ever understand. "I didn't tell you because I wanted a fresh start, to put my past behind me and recover from Kíli's death. But with Glóin coming back...all my old wounds are reopening."

Losseth looked at her like she was mad. "You're insane. I can't believe...you hid this from me for sixty years, Tauriel! How _could_ you?"

"I was afraid you wouldn't like me if you knew," Tauriel said desperately. "Please, Losseth—"

"No." Losseth's angry voice cut into her like a knife. Tauriel's eyes began to fill with tears. "I can't do this anymore. You _lied_ to me—then ignored me—all over filthy _dwarves_? You're a traitor to your own kind, Tauriel."

"Losseth..." Tauriel hung her head, tears dripping down her cheeks. "I'm sorry."

"Be sorry." Losseth stood up. "I'm requesting a transfer to the back gate. Please go away."

Tauriel nodded, a lump in her throat. She stood up and walked out of the room. As she reached Losseth's doorway, she stopped and turned back.

"You won't tell this to anyone else, will you?" Tauriel asked, her voice hoarse.

Losseth glared at her. "No. But only because no one would believe me if I did. An _elf_ and a _dwarf_..."

Tauriel left. She wandered around the quiet paths of Rivendell, dazed and shocked by what had just happened. Losseth was just...gone. Out of her life. Her closest, only friend...hated her. It hurt like a knife.

She found a bench to sit on and put her head in her hands, crying her heart out. She had no one now...nothing.

How could she have known this would happen? Losseth had always been so kind to her, so welcoming. Only because she hadn't known the truth. Tauriel wished that she had never met Kíli, that she was still Captain of the Guard. She would not have lost Kíli, or Losseth, or...Legolas.

Legolas was here. She wished he had not seen her. She couldn't deal with grief from him as well as from Losseth. She ought to leave Rivendell, escape her past once and for all...but how? Where would she go? Not even this haven was her home anymore.

She wiped her tears from her face. At least she had not lost Losseth to death like she had Kíli. She still lived and would recover and thrive, though without her. Besides, she had not even been a good friend if she would leave her over such a thing as this. Good riddance. Kíli, had he lived would never have been like this. He would have accepted elven things for her sake, and she dwarven things for his.

But he was gone. She did not have that chance. All of the chances for happiness she grasped at seemed to fail. What was she to do?

She took a deep breath as her tears subsided. She could do nothing like this. She ought to rest for a while. Everything would be better after a sleep.

Suddenly, Tauriel felt a gentle, familiar hand on her shoulder. She sat up quickly, her hands scrambling for her belt knives.

"Tauriel, it's me!" a familiar voice said.

She froze. Slowly, she returned her knives to their sheaths and looked up at him.

"Legolas," she said, looking at him for the first time in sixty years. Her heart pounded. She was not sure if she was happy to see him. They had been close friends, but the terms of their parting had not been good, and there were too many words left unsaid. She wished he had stayed after the battle, at least long enough to say goodbye, or that she had managed to think about something other than Kíli's death in the aftermath of the bloodshed.

He smiled. He seemed different, somehow. Happier. Freer. She wondered how that had happened, especially now that she felt so much heavier and sadder than she had been last they met.

"Tauriel," he greeted her. "I'm sorry to interrupt your privacy, but I had to see you." He sat beside her on the bench. "I had no idea you would be here!"

"I came here after your father banished me," she said, carefully guarding her true feelings. She did not know what his intentions were. Did he come to apologize? To rekindle their friendship? Was he in love with her as Thranduil had seemed to think? What did he want?

At her words, he glanced down awkwardly. Perhaps he felt some guilt on his father's behalf. But soon enough he looked back up, a smile on his face. "It is good to see you again. I have traveled far since we last met. My father sent me here with news. At the Council yesterday, it was decided that I and eight others will—well, it is supposed to be a secret for now. I am sure Lord Elrond will tell his people soon enough."

Tauriel nodded. "Yes. I have found a home here. Although..." It did not feel so much like a home anymore, now that Losseth had betrayed her trust. She forced that thought out of her mind and smiled bitterly up at Legolas.

"Are you alright?" he asked in concern. "You were crying when I came over here."

She sighed and glanced away. "I just...told a friend something she did not like. We are not friends anymore."

Legolas patted her on the shoulder. "Tauriel, I am sorry."

"And now you come over here and I do not know what to say." Tauriel brushed a loose strand of hair out of her face. "You left without saying goodbye. The last I saw you was in the middle of battle. I have lost so much...and by your demeanor you seem to be in good spirits. Why have you come to speak with me?"

She looked back over and found his eyes full of concern. "I have come to reunite with a dear friend. I have not seen you in a long time, Tauriel. I have missed you."

"Did you love me?" she blurted out. "I mean, romantically? Your father seemed to think so, and after everything that happened with Kíli—"

"No," Legolas said, his cheeks reddening. "I did not, nor do I now. Tauriel, I—" He hesitated. "My father often, especially back then, misinterpreted things. We have spoken...it is better now. I do love you, as a friend. I am very sad to have you gone from my life for so long, living so far away. If you ever wish to return to the Greenwood, I could speak with my father. Time has passed, and though your actions were not what he had wanted, things have worked out for the better."

"For him, at least." Tauriel relaxed. She felt much better knowing that he did not harbor any feelings for her that she could not return. She had missed his friendship. "I...I do not know. I'm not sure if I really belong here in Rivendell anymore." _Not if I am to be alone_ , she thought. "But returning..."

She had never really intended to dwell in Rivendell forever, and now there was little keeping her here. But...returning to the Greenwood? She didn't know. She missed her homeland, and her old friends, and if the others were like Legolas they would have forgiven her by now. But Thranduil...his last words to her had expressed regret and apology, but he had not rescinded her banishment. Would he welcome her? And was she ready to return and face her past?

"I must go with the Company soon, in any case," Legolas said. "Once this mysterious business is dealt with, I can appeal to my father, if you wish me to."

"I will consider it," Tauriel said at last. "Thank you, Legolas." She sighed. Today had been too much for her. She was tired. "I ought to go now. Thank you...and goodbye."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soo....I feel a bit bad about everything that happened with Losseth, but it was really necessary for the continuous narrative, and probably more realistic. Not everyone has experience with interspecies relationships like Elrond did, after all. this isn't the last we'll see of Losseth, though....  
> thanks for commenting!


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hey, sorry for abandoning this fic for a couple weeks! my life got super busy, and it's about to get even more busy. I'm going on a temporary hiatus for at least the next few weeks. I should come back with an update in early April with more news, but we'll see how it goes.

In the next few months, word quickly spread that the quest which Legolas had been chosen to be a part of was of grave importance. It concerned the destruction of—something. The rumors varied: some said it was a cursed sword, others a magic jewel, and still more believed it was an evil person of some sort. Tauriel didn't try to guess which was correct. She was sure that Losseth had plenty of theories, but...well, she wasn't privy to them anymore.

The questers left two months after the Council of Elrond. Tauriel was on duty as they left. There were nine of them: Legolas, Glóin's son Gimli, Aragorn, Mithrandir, Denethor's delegate and son Boromir, and, to her surprise, the four halflings.

Before they left, Legolas found her once more.

"Have you thought about my offer?" he asked her.

"Yes," she said. "I...I still am not sure."

"You do not seem very happy here," he discerned.

Her lips twitched into a bitter, wry smile. "You noticed."

"Yes." He looked at her, his eyes wide with concern. "I have missed you, Tauriel. You might be happier back home, where you belong."

She nodded. "Yes. But I do not know if I will be welcomed. I am a traitor, after all."

"My father will pardon you, I am sure of it," Legolas said confidently. "And the others will forgive you, even if they do not understand."

Tauriel sighed. She wished she could believe that, but after what happened with Losseth...

"Can I tell you after your quest?" she said. "I will have my answer by then, if you could return here before you go back home."

Legolas nodded. "Of course." He glanced over to where the other eight questers were almost ready to depart. "I must go. Goodbye, Tauriel." He clapped her on the shoulder fondly, then walked away.

The company soon left. Glóin stood beside her, watching them go.

"My little lad," he said, his voice full of emotion. "Off to save the world."

Tauriel patted him on the shoulder awkwardly. "He'll be fine."

"If he and that elf don't kill each other." Glóin chuckled.

Tauriel smirked. "Legolas is not fond of dwarves, it is true. But he'll give him a chance. He remembers me and Kíli, after all...and there's nothing like close quarters to turn enemies into friends."

Glóin guffawed. "Very true!"

"Tauriel." The call came from Tosdir, her new guard partner. "Come back to duty. You can talk with your dwarf...friend later."

Tauriel nodded, flushing a little. "I'm coming. Goodbye, Glóin." She walked back to her post beside Tosdir.

"Goodbye!" the dwarf said. The company had long since disappeared. After looking through the gates one last time, he tromped off back to the citadel, leaving Tauriel alone with Tosdir.

Glóin left to return to Erebor the next day. Tauriel wished him goodbye and sent her greetings to Dwalin along with him, and Balin, too, next time they corresponded.

Only a month later, Lord Elrond called a great meeting with all of the inhabitants of Rivendell. The whole valley was abuzz with gossip as each elf gathered in the citadel to listen to their leader speak. No one was quite sure what was going on.

Tauriel found herself beside Captain Ivorion. "Hello, Captain," she greeted him.

"Hello, Tauriel," he said, smiling. "Do you have any idea what this is all about?"

She shook her head. "Do you?"

"No," he admitted. "I didn't have time to ask Elladan before coming here."

"I'm sure we'll find out soon," she said. True to her prediction, Elrond soon appeared before his people.

"Friends," he said, spreading his hands in welcome, "I have called you here today to alert you to some very major events. As I am sure you all know already, I and some of my closest advisors have counseled with delegates from all the strongest kingdoms in Middle-earth. A Fellowship has set out at the decision of the council. They go to destroy a powerful object, a task instrumental to defeating Sauron in this final, impending war."

Tauriel's eyes widened. This was serious business. She had heard of evil things abroad and knew these were dark times, but she had not yet grasped the full importance of those tidings. If Elrond spoke truly, she feared for the safety of Middle-earth. The Battle of the Five Armies paled in comparison to the full wrath of Sauron.

"I regret that I cannot tell you more," Elrond continued, "but to be more specific would put the secretive nature of the quest in danger. May the Valar bless and guide our faithful warriors as they journey on this perilous quest."

Tauriel stifled a giggle as she thought of the four young hobbits. Faithful they may be, but "warriors" was a bit of a stretch. Still, they had Legolas and the others to guide them. Mithrandir would not lead the Fellowship astray.

"This, however, is not all," Elrond said. He bowed his head. "These are dark times. For ages and years the power of the Eldar has waned, and now, as darkness creeps through our lands, I feel my heart grow heavier still. I have long considered my role in maintaining and protecting Rivendell as a last safe haven for the elves of Middle-earth, and I have come at last to a conclusion." He sighed. "I am leaving these lands for Valinor."

Murmurs of shock spread throughout the assembled crowd. Beside Tauriel, Ivorion gasped audibly.

"The time of the elves in Middle-earth is rapidly coming to a close," Elrond explained. "I will not abandon the people who need me—not yet—and I intend to stay to aid the free peoples of Middle-earth throughout this final war. But when it is over, I must go. My time is up. _Our_ time is up."

Elrond's children walked up behind him to in solidarity. Elladan and Elrohir wore somber expressions, and Arwen was visibly upset, but the three of them nonetheless supported their father in his decision.

"Rivendell is no longer a safe haven for all," Elrond said. "My remaining time here will be spent aiding the war effort. I cannot protect this valley as I once have. If you wish to remain, I will allow it, but I will assume that you wish to support our cause and I will put you to work. If you desire to leave for the Grey Havens, Galdor is returning there next week. You are all welcome to accompany him."

Elrond took one last look at his people, sorrow in his eyes. "I am glad to have spent so much time among you all. You are good people who do not deserve such hardships. But we all must fight the battles that are given to us. I wish you each the best of fortune in the storm to come." He nodded, then turned to leave.

Tauriel was shocked. She had not expected such news from him. It seemed she really would have to leave Rivendell, one way or another.

Around her, she heard elves discussing the news. To her surprise, she found that most had already decided to leave for Valinor. That had never really been a choice in her mind. Tauriel loved Middle-earth. Perhaps one day she would go to the Grey Havens and depart for whiter shores, but for now she would stay.

"What are you going to do, Tauriel?" Ivorion asked her.

She frowned. "I...I think I would like to go back to the Greenwood, one last time. And I will fight for these lands and these people. I have hope yet." She was surprised to realize that she did, and always had. Even after losing Kíli, losing her home, feeling so lost, finding a friend in Losseth only to lose her to petty grievances, even then—she still hoped for a brighter future. It was why she had not faded in grief, why she had not left for Valinor years ago, why she was still determined to fight for these lands. The stars still shone even in the blackness of night, and she would not give up her hope until they faded.

Ivorion nodded. "I understand. You've always been a fighter, as long as I've known you, though we have never been close. You won't give up, not when there's still light." He sighed. "I'm afraid I'm not quite the same. I have yearned for the joys of Valinor for an age, ever since I lost my beloved in the War of the Last Alliance. I stayed because of Elladan's encouragement and friendship, but I do not know I can stand another war. I will go with Galdor."

"I wish you joy in Valinor," she told him. "I hope the Valar allow you to see your beloved again."

He smiled gratefully. "Thank you, Tauriel. I wish you victory, and may your hope never die."

"Thank you," she murmured. He waved to her in farewell, then left, most likely searching for Elladan.

Tauriel took a deep breath. Legolas would not find her here after his part in this war was over. She longed to see the trees of her homeland again, to fight alongside her friends, to serve a cause once more. Legolas had opened the door to the possibility, but she was going to return to the Woodland Realm on her own terms.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! I'm not making any promises but I -should- be able to have more regular updates again.

 

That very same day, Tauriel began to pack her things. She would not waste her time any longer. She intended to leave for the Greenwood the next morning.

She had almost finished when there was a knock at her door. She looked up, surprised to see Lindir.

"Tauriel," he said.

"Lindir," she greeted him. "How can I help you?"

"Lord Elrond would like to see you," he said.

Tauriel frowned. "What for?"

Lindir shrugged. "He will tell you himself. I do not know. He is in his study. I think you know the way?"

She nodded. "I do. Thank you." Lindir left. She finished folding up her map, left it on her bed, then walked out of her house and toward Elrond's study in the citadel.

When she arrived, Elrond was waiting for her. He gestured for her to sit in front of him.

"My lord," she said. "Lindir said you wanted to see me?"

"Yes." He frowned, taking a deep breath. "You were at the meeting earlier today, correct?"

"Yes, my lord," she said.

"Half of Rivendell has already come to my study, begging me to stay, or saying that they will stand by me, or informing me that they intend to leave with Galdor." He smiled faintly. "I am exhausted, but my decision still stands. There are only a few people whose decisions I must know. You are one of them."

"My lord?" she asked, confused. "I'm just a Silvan elf, an outsider, a guard—why do you need to know _my_ decision?"

"Just tell me, please, Tauriel," he said. "I will explain later."

"I have decided to return to the Greenwood," she said. "There is nothing more keeping me here. I spoke with Legolas when he was here for the Council...I believe that Thranduil will allow me to return, after all this time."

"Good." Elrond smiled at her. "That is what I had hoped. Tauriel, you are uniquely situated. Most elves are either leaving for Valinor or joining the fight with me. I need to send a message to Galadriel. You have spoken with her before, and you are a Silvan elf like most of her people. I could send another, but you are already leaving Rivendell heading in that direction. Could you deliver the message to Galadriel and Celeborn in Lothlórien?"

Tauriel pursed her lips, considering his request. She didn't want to delay her return home any longer than she already had, but he needed her. Lothlórien was not very far from the Greenwood. She could deliver the message, then turn north toward the Woodland Realm.

"Yes," she answered. "What is the message?"

Elrond reached into his desk drawer and pulled out an envelope. "I have already written it. It is in here. You may read it if you wish, but do not show it to anyone else."

Tauriel took the envelope and placed it in her pocket. "Yes, my lord."

"Thank you, Tauriel," he said, sounding relieved. "Galadriel and I do not wish to abandon Middle-earth, not yet. This message contains orders to send elves to support whichever kingdom needs it most, be it Rohan or Gondor or Dale."

Tauriel nodded. She was glad that Elrond and Galadriel had decided to help the other peoples of the world. They saw what Thranduil had continually ignored: that the Eldar were a part of this world, no matter how much they wished to believe otherwise.

If Thranduil had changed his policy as Legolas said, perhaps he would fight in this war. But Tauriel feared he had not. The Thranduil she had known would be reclusive and secretive, guarding his people and shutting out the rest of the world. It showed strength that he had sent Legolas to the Council and allowed him on the Fellowship, but she would not trust the rumors of change until she saw the truth for herself. She needed to go and ensure that Thranduil did not sit this one out.

But first she would deliver the message to Galadriel.

"I am glad to help you," she told Elrond. "I will do all I can to aid Middle-earth in these dark times, but I believe my efforts will be most helpful among my own people."

Elrond nodded. "I wish the blessings of the Valar upon you, Tauriel."

She stood and bowed to him. "And I to you, my lord."

* * *

Tauriel finished packing, now with a different destination in mind. Even though Elrond had said it was alright if she read the letter, she didn't open it. It wasn't her business.

She took out her old, wrinkled map. She had gotten it sixty years ago in Rohan, before she had settled in Rivendell.

She would travel southeast, across the Misty Mountains. Traveling alone, she would be easy to miss. Hopefully, none of Sauron's forces would notice her. And if they did...she would deal with them. She may have been a little out of practice, but she remembered her training, and her knives were still sharp.

She rested that night, conserving her energy for the journey to come. She would need to be alert and careful.

Early the next morning, Tauriel gathered her possessions and left. She exited Rivendell at the southern gate.

"Halt!" a familiar voice called out before she could pass through the gate.

Tauriel froze. Losseth. Of course, this was her new guard post.

She turned around to face her former friend. Losseth glared at her, her once friendly countenance turned bitter. Tauriel did not see another guard on duty.

"What do you want, Losseth?" she asked tiredly. She didn't want to deal with this, not now. She was ready to leave all this behind.

"Where are you going, Tauriel?" Losseth demanded. "Abandoning your people again?"

Tauriel smiled wryly. "No. I'm returning to them."

Losseth glared at her. "Good riddance."

"Maybe one day you'll look back on this and regret losing a friend over such trivial bigotry," Tauriel said calmly, hiding her hurt. Even after her newfound resolve and mission, Losseth's words still stung. She missed their comradery and friendship. If they had managed to work their differences out and were still friends, perhaps Losseth would have accompanied her to Lothlórien and beyond. The thought turned her mind bitterly toward impossible possibilities, what-ifs and could-haves.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the reality of Losseth's anger. "Be loyal to your people, then," Losseth spat. "Enjoy your return to Erebor!"

Tauriel sighed. There was no winning her over. "I was sorry to lose you. It hurt. But I see now that you were not a friend worth having if you would not stand by me in everything."

"Leave, if you must, Tauriel," her former friend commanded. "And don't bother returning!"

"I wouldn't want to." Tauriel turned her back, allowing herself to grimace now that Losseth couldn't see her. Behind her, she could hear the elf woman muttering under her breath.

She thrust thoughts of bitter enemies and former friends from her mind. Tauriel breathed in the fresh morning air and smiled. She was off, traveling through the wild. It was good to leave the past behind. The future lay ahead, and she was ready for it.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Regular updates" was such a lie. Here's a chapter as an apology.  
> Please comment!

  _Many places I have been_  
_Many sorrows I have seen_  
_But I don't regret_  
_Nor will I forget  
_ _All who took that road with me_

* * *

Tauriel set out for Lothlórien in the middle of winter, one of the worst times to attempt to cross a mountain range of any sort. Still, traveling alone, she made good time. She walked for days on end, not stopping until she was exhausted. She ate only as much as she felt she needed to. She slept little, desiring to reach her destination as quickly as possible.

The cold bothered her some, but being an elf, her clothes kept her warm enough to remain living. It was not an ideal situation. Tauriel wished she had brought some warmer clothes, but there was no turning back now.

The mountains were a lonely place. It had been sixty years since she had last been truly alone. She did not particularly like the feeling. It was nice to get away from the chaos of life sometimes, but Tauriel's busy life back in Rivendell had provided a distraction from dark thoughts which resurfaced now with nothing to deter them.

She missed Losseth. Well, not really. She missed who she had thought Losseth was: a friend, someone she could count on, someone she could love. She missed her companionship, her outlandish theories surrounding whatever the hottest gossip was, her bad jokes, her casual bluntness. But all that had been torn away and ruined by her bigotry. Tauriel couldn't understand Losseth's unreasonable hatred of dwarves. It could really be boiled down to one thing: they were _different_ from her, an elf.

Tauriel sometimes wished she felt the same way. But to her, even strange outsiders like dwarves had always been _people_. Kíli had walked into her life and proved that. Dwarves like Balin, Dwalin, Dís, and even Glóin had proved that. She couldn't let go of her beliefs, not even for Losseth. So she'd had to let her go, for all it pained her to do so. She would move on, forget her bitterness, sail to Valinor. Tauriel, too, would follow the path life took her, over these mountains and to the forests beyond, reuniting with her old friends—if they would take her back, forgiving her where Losseth could not.

She hoped that the elves of the Greenwood would have forgiven her by now. Legolas had, and she was glad to regain a friend in him. But he had not been her only companion. People like Midhel, her second in command back when she had been captain, Midhel's brother Orelon, and the siblings Glándir and Úrphen, had also been her friends.

Midhel was brave and lighthearted, and could perhaps see Tauriel's actions in a noble light. Her brother was of a like mind. Úrphen and their brother Glándir, she worried about more. Those two were less forgiving.

And what about the people who had raised her after her parents' death? The healer couple Hithwen and Gwelonir, who had given her a home with them for years? Feren, the guard captain before her, who had helped train her and had guided her steps until she was ready to lead?

And what of Thranduil, her king? She had hurt him most of all, disobeying direct orders and insulting him to his face? In their last meeting, she had thought he had forgiven her somewhat, but he had not allowed her back into his kingdom. It had not mattered then, when she had no desire to return, but it would now that she did.

The more Tauriel thought along these lines, the more she felt dark and unhappy. One night, after an exhausting and cold day of travel in the high paths of the Misty Mountains, she lay before a small fire, getting warm. Without anything to distract her, she began to worry until she felt sick.

At last, she forced herself to do something. She was too tired to get up and move about, so she took out Elrond's letter to Galadriel and read it for the first time.

 _My Lady Galadriel,_ it read,

_I have sent this message to you by a trusted messenger._

Tauriel smiled, feeling flattered.

_I know she will have guarded its contents well, though I have allowed her to read them. We have previously discussed sending aid to the kingdoms of men in this War of the Ring._

War of the Ring? Tauriel wondered. What could that mean? Was the object that the Fellowship was trying to destroy a ring?

_I have informed my people of my decision. I will send all my people who are willing to fight to you in these coming months, after my lone messenger. Rivendell is a shadow of its former self. My people are leaving these shores. I remain only so long as I must._

_I urge you, upon receiving this message, to send a troop of elves to the realm of men. It is time for the elves to fight alongside our cousins, the race of men, once more. I suspect Rohan and Gondor will need support the most._

_I wish you the blessings of the Valar._

_Lord Elrond of Rivendell._

Tauriel put the letter away. She had known most of that already. The only new part was the phrase "War of the Ring". She was curious as to what it meant, but she did not think she would ask. She would most likely find out when this was all over.

She lay down, trying to get some sleep. She was interrupted suddenly by loud footsteps very close by to her. Instinctively, she shot to her feet, pulling out her knives. Her fire had burned low, but it still shone bright enough for her to make out the approaching figures: orcs.

The nearest one grinned, showing its slimy, jagged teeth. It turned to its four companions and hissed something to them in Black Speech. They rushed at her.

Tauriel grimaced and met them head on. She was still tired, not having rested for very long, but adrenaline pumped through her veins, giving her the energy she needed in order to fight.

The first orc attempted to cut her in two with its jagged, rusty blade, but Tauriel was too quick. She blocked its thrust with her left knife, cutting its belly open with her right. It screamed and collapsed into her smoldering fire, effectively putting it out.

But she couldn't rest yet. She spun around to face the other four attacking orcs. Two rushed her from the front, the other two from the back. Tauriel jumped out of their way, throwing one of her knives into an orc's eye. Two down, three to go, she thought grimly, and she only had one knife left.

She sheathed her remaining knife and pulled out her bow, nocking an arrow to it as she backed away from the menacing orcs. One tried to charge her, but she shot it through the throat. Now only two remained.

One lifted a bow of its own. Tauriel ducked as it shot an arrow near her head. The last one hung behind, looking at its fallen companions with fear.

Tauriel scrambled away from the orc with the bow as it continued to shoot at her. It did not have very good aim, but it distracted her enough to stop her from retaliating. She rolled behind a boulder in the snow, taking cover.

As she did so, Elrond's letter fell out of her pocket. She cursed. She could not let the orc touch it!

The orc stopped firing at her hiding spot and stomped forward to the letter. It grunted curiously. Tauriel quietly notched an arrow to her bow, waiting for it to walk into her line of sight.

She saw a clawed, ugly hand slowly reach down to grab the letter and...

 _Thwap!_ Her arrow sang through the air and into the orc's outstretched hand. It howled and leapt forward in outrage, allowing Tauriel to shoot it between its eyes.

Now there was only one orc left. She rose, her bow in her hand, aiming at the frightened beast. It looked at her with wide, terrified eyes, then turned to run away.

Tauriel took careful aim and fired into its calf, effectively stopping its retreat. She needed to find out how these orcs had discovered her, so she could not kill it—yet.

She picked up the letter lying on the ground, wiped a spot of orcish blood off the envelope, and stuck it in her pocket. Then she raced over to where the injured orc had collapsed on the ground, still trying to claw its way through the snow and away from her.

She pulled out her remaining knife and hauled the orc upright, holding her blade to its throat.

"How did you find me, filth?" she growled.

It squealed. "Don't hurt me!"

"Tell me!" she ordered, pressing her knife harder into its throat, though she was careful not to draw blood.

"My leader saw a fire in the distance," the orc gurgled. "We came to investigate!"

"Are there more of you?" she demanded. It said nothing. "Answer me, filth!" she spat.

"Yes!" it cried. "A squadron, sent to scout these mountains. After the disaster in the mines, we have been ordered to infiltrate the lands of men, preparing for war!"

Tauriel gasped. This was bad news. She didn't know what disaster this orc spoke of, but it had spurred the orcs out of the depths of the mountain and into the upper world, spreading out for war. Who had commanded them to do so—Sauron?

The orc babbled on, begging her to spare its life, but Tauriel could not let it go and alert the others to her presence in the mountains. She put it out of its misery quickly, cutting its throat.

She kicked snow over the remnants of her fire, removing her arrows and her knife from the orc corpses. She did not want anyone to know who had killed these orcs—and she could reuse those weapons, anyway. She quickly gathered her belongings and set out, fighting her exhaustion. She was not safe in these mountains, and she had even more urgent news to deliver to Galadriel.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter's kinda short, but the next one's longer, I promise!  
> Please comment :)

Tauriel reached Lothlórien a week and a half later. In that time she had slept only once, and she had not lit another fire since the night of the orc attack. She was exhausted.

When she arrived at Lothlórien's borders, she collapsed in front of the first patrol of elves that she found. She did not recognize any of them, but she was simply too tired to walk another step.

When she woke, she felt much better. She was in a structure high in the trees, much like the ones she had seen before during her previous stay in the Golden Wood. She sat up slowly, blinking as she took in her surroundings.

A healer sat next to her. She leaned forward and propped up her pillows, helping Tauriel to sit more comfortably.

"You are safe here," she said gently. "I am Nelwen."

"How long was I out?" she inquired rubbing her head.

"One day only," Nelwen told her. "You collapsed at the border. The patrol took you here. Lady Galadriel and Captain Haldir both recognized you."

"Yes, I met them both before," she said. Suddenly, she realized that she wore different clothes than the ones she had arrived in. Panic rose in her chest and she asked, "Where are my clothes? My weapons? My message?"

Nelwen pointed to a corner where each item had been cleaned and stacked neatly. The letter, unopened, sat atop the pile. "We cleaned them, but did not touch the message."

"I must see Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn immediately," she said, swinging her feet down off the bed. "That message is urgent, sent from Lord Elrond!"

Nelwen's eyebrows shot upward. "I will send for Captain Haldir. He can take you to her ladyship. Dress, quickly, and prepare!" She rushed from the room.

Tauriel stood up, wincing. She ached all over. She had exhausted herself too much, trying to make it out of the mountains and into the forest without much rest. She could not do that to herself again.

She dressed into her old clothes as quick as she could, strapping her weapons back on and putting Elrond's message into her pocket.

Soon Nelwen returned, Haldir by her side. He nodded to her, smiling. "Tauriel. Welcome back to Lothlórien. I did not think I would see you again."

"Nor did I," she said, nodding back. "But fate had other plans, I see."

"Nelwen says that you wish to see Lady Galadriel now that you are recovered," Haldir said.

"Yes," Tauriel confirmed. "It is very urgent. I bear a message from Lord Elrond, and ill tidings of my own."

Haldir's expression grew grave. "I see. I will bring you to her Ladyship."

He led her down to the forest floor and through the trees. Tauriel spoke little, lost in thought. At last, they stopped in front of a set of wide steps.

"Her Ladyship should be up there," Haldir said. "If she is not, come back down and I will help you find her elsewhere. I will wait for you here."

"Thank you, Haldir," she said, nodding to him. She took a deep breath, then walked up the steps.

The stairs led her to a large platform. On it sat Galadriel, speaking quietly with her husband, Lord Celeborn. Tauriel approached them slowly, not wishing to be disrespectful.

"My lord, my lady," she said, trying to get their attentions. When they turned to see her, she bowed to them.

"Tauriel," Lady Galadriel said, smiling. "I am glad to see you recovered."

"Yes, my lady," she said. "I am as well. But I have urgent news for you."

"What news?" Celeborn asked.

Tauriel took the letter from her pocket. It was crumpled and stained with blood from the orc attack, but hopefully it would still be legible.

"This message is from Lord Elrond," she said. She walked closer to them, handing Galadriel the envelope.

She took it, frowning as she opened it. Her eyes quickly scanned through the short paragraphs, her brows furrowing deeper after every line. When she had finished, she handed it to Celeborn.

"This is indeed news of great import," Galadriel said, her words slow and deliberate. "Thank you for your dedication, Tauriel."

"My lady, that is not all," Tauriel said.

Galadriel raised a golden eyebrow in interest. "Go on."

"While I was traveling over the Misty Mountains, I was attacked by orcs," Tauriel began. "I killed them all, but first I interrogated one of them to discover how they had found me. My captive revealed that an army of orcs from the depths of the mountains had been called forth and marched to attack the world of men."

"These are grave tidings," Celeborn said. He set the message down and looked at his wife with a frown. "Galadriel, we must send out our warriors at once."

"Yes," she agreed, nodding. "This matter is more urgent than even Elrond knew."

"Has Mithrandir woken?" Celeborn asked her.

Galadriel shook her head. "He has not. He has been under immense stress. I am not sure how he survived, but he is very fortunate that Gwaihir bore him to our lands, where our healers can tend to him."

"Mithrandir is here?" Tauriel said in surprise. "But he was travelling with the Fellowship!"

"The Fellowship has been broken, I fear," Galadriel explained. "Mithrandir fell in Moria, battling a Balrog, and was separated from the rest. The other eight arrived here two weeks ago, and passed through the next day."

Tauriel frowned. Legolas had been here not long ago. "Mithrandir will wish to know my news once he wakes."

"We can inform him," Celeborn said. "You may leave, if you wish to, although your prowess in battle would be very useful in aiding the realms of men."

Tauriel did not answer him right away. She yearned to return to the Greenwood, but he was right. "I will stay at least for a few days more. I must regain my strength and restock my supplies. I travel on to the Woodland Realm."

Galadriel smiled at her. "I am glad to see you have regained a purpose, Tauriel."

She nodded. "You helped me, my lady, as did Lord Elrond."

"You helped yourself," Galadriel said. "Now, if you could tell Captain Haldir to come up, we must begin preparations for war."


	14. Chapter 14

The next day, Tauriel woke at midday after a long night's rest. She felt relaxed and alert, fully recovered from running herself into the ground on her journey to Lothlórien.

She dressed quickly, then gathered her belongings and went to find Haldir. Now that her message had been delivered, she ought to be leaving Lothlórien for the Greenwood, but something inside her told her she needed to linger for a little longer.

When she found Haldir, he was sitting talking with his brothers, his eyes wide in seriousness.

"Haldir," she greeted him. He looked up, raising his eyebrows.

"Tauriel." He did not seem happy to see her. He forced a smile on her face and stood, glancing back to his brothers. "Rúmil, Orophin, forgive me a moment. I must speak with Tauriel privately."

They nodded, exchanging worried glances. Haldir led Tauriel away from them and stopped when they were out of earshot. He folded his arms, his smile fading off his face.

"Is something wrong, Haldir?" Tauriel asked, confused. She wasn't sure what she could have done to cause such a chilly response. She had thought he had counted her as a friend.

Haldir bit his lip. "Yes. Though it is not your fault." He sighed, glancing back to his brothers, who watched them curiously from afar. "I am greatly troubled by the news you brought to Galadriel and Celeborn. Orcs leaving the mountains to fight against the free peoples...it could only be caused by Sauron. I knew there was something of grave importance afoot, especially after the Fellowship arrived within our borders, but I am now even more worried."

Tauriel nodded. "It is indeed grave news. We live in dark times." She was eerily reminded of a similar conversation she had had with Orelon, a friend of hers in the guard back in the Greenwood, the day the dwarves had escaped. He had expressed concern regarding all the trespassers in their lands—spiders, dwarves, and orcs. He had been right to worry.

" _I don't know what shall come, Tauriel,"_ Orelon had said, " _but it is surely nothing good. The Necromancer grows in power, so the rumors say...and now orcs walk free in our lands."_

" _I only wish we could_ do _something about it,"_ Tauriel remembered protesting. " _But Thranduil keeps us here, shutting his borders and staying away. It will not do—the outside world will keep invading. We must strike back."_

That was the last conversation she had had with Orelon before she had left the Greenwood, never to return. She had been right. The only way to victory had been to become involved.

She was an older, wiser elf now, but she still felt that staying in the shadows would do nothing. "Do Galadriel and Celeborn plan to do anything? Are they going to send aid to the realms of men as Elrond suggested?"

Haldir nodded. "Yes. I am to lead a force of elves to Rohan two days hence." He paused, looking at her with a raised eyebrow. "Will you accompany us? We can always use extra fighters, and you are welcome among us."

"I..." Tauriel trailed off. She was not sure. She wished to continue on to the Greenwood, to help her own people against the amassing orc armies, but Haldir's offer was tempting. "I do not know. I came here only to deliver a message, and now that I am recovered, I had thought to return to the Woodland Realm. I wish to return to my homeland before the war and aid my own people."

"We are your people, too, Tauriel," Haldir urged. "We are Silvan, your kin. You have been gone from the Woodland Realm for eighty years. You can stay away for a few days longer. Please—you can always go back after we are finished in Rohan."

"Haldir, I don't know." Tauriel shrugged helplessly. "I want to help you, I really do, but..."

What would she have done eighty years ago? Orelon had not urged to her to abandon her people, but he had sympathized with her desires to fight. If she returned now and met with him and the rest of her friends among the guard now, would he judge her for not helping the elves of Lothlórien? Haldir's people were her kin, and they had their own lands to protect. If she traveled with them to Rohan, that was one more elf they could leave behind to guard over Lothlórien, one more bow and sword to aid the kingdoms of men. If Thranduil really had changed, he would not be so foolish as to ignore the danger signs. There were many more fighting elves in the Greenwood than there were in Lothlórien.

Haldir sighed. "I wish you the blessings of the Valar, whatever you decide, Tauriel. But you have a place in our ranks if you so wish it." He clapped her on the shoulder and turned away.

He had only taken a few paces back to where his brothers sat when he turned around. "Oh, by the way," he said, "Mithrandir has woken. Galadriel told me to tell you that he wishes to see you."

Tauriel stood and watched him walk back, her mind troubled. Mithrandir wanted to see her? What could she tell him that Galadriel could not?

She left, searching for him. He would most likely be in the infirmary.

The healer, Nelwen, directed her to Mithrandir's room. She entered cautiously, remembering all the wild rumors surrounding the wily grey wizard. The few times she had seen him, she had never spoken to him. She remembered him being there that fateful day eighty years ago in Dale.

"Mithrandir," she said respectfully, standing at his bedside. He sat meditating on the mattress, his eyes closed. When she spoke, his eyelids flashed open and he took a deep breath, turning to face her.

"Ah, yes," he said, nodding. "You must be Tauriel."

"Yes, my lord," she said. He seemed...different somehow. He wore different clothes, but that was not everything. As she stared at him she noticed in surprise that his hair was no longer a mess of grey, but finely groomed strands of purest white.

"I was told you wished to see me," she said. "How may I be of service?"

"You spoke with an orc in the Misty Mountains?" he questioned.

"Yes," she confirmed.

"What did he say?" he asked. "Word for word, if you can remember."

Tauriel furrowed her brows, concentrating. Elves had very good memories. She recalled the encounter, and began to speak, being as accurate as she could remember.

"I captured it after killing its comrades," she began. "First, I asked it how it found me."

"Exactly those words?" Mithrandir pressed.

"Well, no," she admitted. "I said, ' _How did you find me, filth?'_ Then it said, ' _Don't hurt me!'_ I didn't, but I felt like it. I just wanted information."

"Very wise of you to interrogate it," Mithrandir said approvingly.

Tauriel shrugged. "It is always useful to learn from the enemy, in more ways than one." She remembered that it was a conversation with an orc that had first made her realize that she loved Kíli, and thus spurred her to disobey Thranduil and go after the dwarves, saving Kíli's life.

"Continue," the wizard said.

"I said, ' _Tell me!'_ I threatened it a little more, showing off my knives, and it cracked. It said, ' _My leader saw a fire in the distance. We came to investigate.'_ I asked if there were any more of them, and it responded, ' _A squadron sent out scouting the mountains. We have been ordered to infiltrate the lands of men after the disaster in the mines. We are preparing for war.'_ That was all the usefulness it had, after that it just kept babbling about sparing its life. I couldn't let it escape, obviously, so I killed it."

Mithrandir stroked his beard, clearly troubled. "The disaster in the mines...that is not good. It must have been referring to the Fellowship's journey through Moria... And it is exactly as you said, word for word?"

"As best I could remember," Tauriel answered.

"Thank you, Tauriel," he said. "You may go."

"I am glad to have helped in any way, Mithrandir." She bowed, then left.

* * *

Tauriel lingered in Lothlórien for a few more days. She avoided Haldir, not wishing to be pressured any more, but her mind was doing its own pressuring. She was very tempted to stay, to aid Rohan and Lothlórien, repaying the favors those lands had done to her in the past.

At last, on the day Haldir's warriors were to set out, she made up her mind. She packed all her things and went to find Haldir.

All of his elves were gathered together, wearing identical uniforms. Tauriel searched the crowd, looking for Haldir himself. She found his brother Rúmil and went toward him.

"Rúmil!" she called. "Have you seen Haldir?"

"He is over there," Rúmil said, pointing. Haldir stood at the front of the army, speaking with Galadriel, Celeborn, and Mithrandir.

She went up to him, respectfully keeping her distance as he spoke with his leaders.

"...careful. There may be orcs patrolling the distance between here and Edoras," Celeborn was saying.

"And if, by some chance, the Rohirrim are not in Edoras, go to Helm's Deep," Galadriel added. "They may already be preparing for war. We are not the only ones who are aware of the enemy's movements."

"Yes, my lady," Haldir said, nodding.

Mithrandir raised his white hood over his head, clutching his staff with wrinkled hands. He spoke directly to Galadriel, saying, "I will leave these lands now, though not with Captain Haldir. I must search for the remnants of the Fellowship, and guide Frodo and the Ring to Mordor now that I have recovered."

Tauriel's eyes widened. Mordor? The Ring? That was the business of the Fellowship? A chill settled over her. This truly was to be a war of the ages.

Mithrandir left, striding purposefully away, vanishing into the woods. Galadriel and Celeborn exchanged a long look, then turned again to Haldir.

"May the Valar be with you in this war, Captain," Celeborn said gravely.

"We will protect our homeland. Go, lead your warriors, and may your actions reunite the Eldar with our cousins among men," Galadriel said.

"I will, my lady," Haldir said. "Thank you."

They left. Haldir watched them go, before turning back to face his warriors. He caught sight of Tauriel and his eyes widened in surprise.

"Haldir," she said. "I have decided."

"And?" he asked.

"I will come with you to Rohan," she proclaimed.

He broke into a smile. "I knew you would!"

She smiled in return. "I am glad to fight alongside my brethren."

"Good, for we will such much fighting in the days to come." Haldir beckoned his brother Orophin forward. "Orophin, could you give Tauriel a cloak?"

Orophin nodded, running over to where some other elves stood—healers, Tauriel suspected, for she saw Nelwen among them. He came back bearing a dark blue cloak, which he gave to Tauriel.

She put it on, feeling strange wearing this garb. In the Greenwood, they had not had a uniform for the Guard, though she supposed this was different.

"I will find you a spot in our ranks," Orophin said. "Welcome."

She followed him, settling in with her new comrades. As soon as she was comfortable, she heard Haldir shout, "March!" at the head of the warriors. The army began to move, and they started their journey to war.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while, sorry. But I have a new chapter for you now, and that's what matters! (I hope.)  
> Some dialogue for this chapter and the next is taken from the Two Towers movie.

The Galadhrim warriors traveled for several days, out of Lothlórien and down to Rohan. When Haldir led his people to Edoras, they found the Golden Hall deserted. Heeding Galadriel's command, he turned northwest to Helm's Deep, where he was sure the Rohirrim must have fled in the face of war.

Tauriel felt at home among the Lothlórien elves. She felt a surprising relief and comfort to be back among warriors, even if this time, she was not the one leading them. Rúmil and Orophin welcomed her into their ranks, introducing her to other warriors. Haldir talked with her when he could, as she knew him best, but he was busy leading the Galadhrim and was not always available.

At last, they arrived at the Hornburg. As Haldir led them forward in the night, he signaled for his heralds to blow their horns. The men of Rohan, who at this far distance looked like ants scurrying across the battlements, surged forward toward the noise.

Haldir led his warriors up the ramp leading to the gates of the Hornburg. As soon as the Rohirrim recognized them as friends and not foes, a cry was heard: "Open the gate!"

As the elves of Lothlórien marched into Helm's Deep, Tauriel did not miss the looks of wild hope in the eyes of the Rohirrim they passed. Even their king had wide, surprised eyes.

Haldir stopped to speak with him. The rest of the elves stopped abruptly. Tauriel had the fortune of being close enough to hear what they were saying.

"How is this possible?" the king asked breathlessly, his eyes surveying the ranks of the Galadhrim in wonder.

Haldir bowed to him respectfully. "I bring word from Elrond of Rivendell," he answered. "An alliance once existed between elves and men. Long ago we fought and died together."

Haldir's gaze wandered away from the king and toward two newcomers to the scene: Aragorn, son of Arathorn, and Legolas. "We come to honor that allegiance."

Aragorn broke into a grin and raced down the steps to meet Haldir. " _Mae govannen,_ Haldir!" he exclaimed. He paused for a moment, then roughly embraced the elf in the manner of men.

Tauriel stifled a laugh. Elves were not especially prone to extreme physical touch, especially with those they were not well acquainted with. Aragorn seemed to have met Haldir before, but Tauriel doubted they were very close. He must be _very_ happy to see the reinforcements.

Aragorn let go of Haldir and continued, "You are _most_ welcome."

Tauriel was suddenly very glad she had come. Legolas was here, and her aid was clearly sorely needed. Even the difference of just one more elf could turn the tide in the battle to come.

Aragorn stepped back, and Legolas took his turn to greet Haldir, grasping his forearm in a slightly more elvish manner of welcome, but still one that showed his extreme gratitude for the presence of Haldir and his warriors.

A command rippled through the ranks of the Galadhrim, sent mostly likely by Orophin, and the elves turned to face the king. Haldir, now done greeting Legolas, looked back to the king and proclaimed, "We are proud to fight alongside men once more."

Haldir began to speak with the king in more prosaic matters, how their forces could be best put to use and such things. Up on the steps, Tauriel watched as a dwarf stomped his way forward: Gimli, son of Glóin. As soon as he approached, Legolas left Aragorn and the king to speak with him.

At the top of the steps, Legolas quickly filled Gimli in—or so Tauriel supposed. She could not hear the words they exchanged from that distance. The unlikely friends turned to observe the host of elves.

At last, Legolas's gaze wandered over to her face. His eyes widened in surprise as they made eye contact. Though her distinctive red hair was covered by the blue hood of the Galadhrim, he could easily recognize her face.

Legolas raised an eyebrow, and Tauriel in turn pursed her lips. Beside him, Gimli looked surprisingly at ease. Tauriel wondered how such bitter rivals could become friends. Perhaps Legolas had remembered her and Kíli, and kept on open mind and heart. And perhaps Gimli had listened to Glóin's words of wisdom, as well.

Whatever the cause, Tauriel soon lost sight of them both. Haldir finished speaking with the king, then began to disperse his warriors across the battlements. The orcs would soon be upon Helm's Deep and war was coming quickly.

Tauriel's body sang with anticipation in the tense air before a battle. She had _missed_ this. Living in Rivendell, she had very rarely had cause to use her weapons. She was eager to slay orcs again.

Before Haldir could send her away to her new post, she took him aside.

"Haldir," she said, "if I may, could I speak with Legolas before the battle?"

He raised his eyebrows, but nodded. "Of course."

"Thank you," she said. Then she smiled. "Are you ready for the battle, Captain?"

He grinned at her. "I am. I haven't killed an orc in years. I feel young again."

She laughed. "You will for a while, if this war is truly one for the ages."

"Go," he said, clapping her on the shoulder. "You're posted with Rúmil, but Legolas is waiting."

"Goodbye, Haldir," she said, suddenly overcome by a rush of fondness for this elf who had so kindly taken her in. "May your arrows be swift and your blade sharp."

"And may you always hit your mark," he said. "Goodbye, Tauriel." They exchanged one last smile, then Tauriel left to speak with Legolas.

He was not hard to find. She looked for Gimli, and discovered Legolas standing nearby, the two of them speaking in grave tones with Aragorn. As Tauriel navigated her way through the throng of Rohirrim and Galadhrim preparing for battle, Aragorn nodded to Legolas and walked away, their conversation evidently finished.

Tauriel took his place. Legolas smiled at her, and so did Gimli.

"Tauriel!" Legolas greeted her. "I did not think to see you again until after the war!"

"I did not expect to, either," she admitted. "But some months after you left, Lord Elrond asked me to deliver a message to Lothlórien. Haldir convinced me to tag along with his army, at least to here."

"Well, good for you, lassie," Gimli said enthusiastically. "We can always use the extra warrior!"

Tauriel looked at him and smiled warily, raising her eyebrows. "Master Gimli. I am surprised to see you in Legolas's company. I did not think you were overfond of elves."

Gimli shrugged. "Well, we have our differences, but this one isn't too bad." He elbowed Legolas in a friendly manner.

"I figured that if you could fall in love with a dwarf, I could at the very least attempt to befriend one." Legolas took a step away from Gimli's offensive elbow, but he smiled at his short companion. "I suppose it worked out."

Tauriel laughed, hiding the stab of pain she felt when he mentioned Kíli. She knew Legolas meant well, but it still hurt to think of him.

"My father told me to give him a chance," Gimli admitted.

" _My_ father would disown me if he saw me now," Legolas joked. "Well. Maybe not. Dealings between our peoples have been better of late—though who would have thought!"

"Who indeed," Tauriel agreed. She turned to Gimli, a thought striking her. "I heard from Mithrandir that your company passed through the mines of Moria, though he did not elaborate. Your father told me at Rivendell that Lord Balin took a company of dwarves there to reclaim it. Did you by any chance meet him?"

Immediately, Gimli's face fell. "No," he said gravely. "We found his tomb."

Tauriel's eyes widened. "How did he die?" she asked softly. She remembered all those years ago, how Balin had been so kind to her in her loss. He had invited her to travel with his company to meet Dís, had been as much of a friend to her as he could, had appreciated her and comforted her in her grief.

"Orcs," Gimli said grimly. "But enough of his people were left to bury him. By the time we arrived, though...there was no one left."

Tauriel bowed her head. "That is truly sad. I mourn him alongside you. He was very kind to me many years ago."

Legolas looked at her curiously. He opened his mouth to speak, but suddenly there was a shout from the ramparts: "Orcs approaching!"

Tauriel gasped, turning toward the noise. "I am sorry," she said to Legolas and Gimli, "But I must go. Good luck in the battle to come—I hope we will speak again."

Legolas nodded. Tauriel smiled at him, then quickly raced away to her station on the ramparts. The battle was about to begin.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's chapter 16! Helm's Deep was sure a fun chapter to write.  
> Featuring some dialogue from the Two Towers movie, and my aromantic Legolas headcanon.  
> I hope you enjoy! This is probably the longest chapter in the whole fic, though since I'm not done that may change later.

Tauriel stood on the ramparts, in rank with the rest of the Galadhrim warriors. She could see Haldir from her position, standing off far to the left. Rúmil was in the row ahead of her. Legolas and Gimli were at the front of the wall, three rows in front.

The orc army approached. She saw their lights and shadowy forms off in the distance, and heard their approaching footsteps like thunder. Real thunder echoed across the mountains, signaling the coming of a storm. Tonight was a poor night for a battle.

In front of her, Tauriel heard Gimli growl under his breath. "You could have picked a better spot," he complained to Legolas.

Tauriel smiled. She did not have a very good view of him three rows in front of her, but she imagined he could barely see over the wall. This place was not designed for dwarves.

Aragorn strode through the ranks of warriors. He stopped behind Legolas and Gimli.

"Well, lad, whatever luck you live by, let's hope it lasts the night," Gimli joked to him.

Lightning flashed, revealing the sea of approaching orcs. Tauriel shivered, feeling tension hang in the air like cobwebs in a dark cave.

"Your friends are with you, Aragorn," Legolas told him over the increasingly louder sound of the orcs. Tauriel could hear their shouts now, off in the distance.

"Let's hope they last the night," Gimli added. Aragorn nodded, then walked away.

Lightning flashed again. The sky held its breath, then released it with one quiet sigh. Rain flooded down from the heavens, dripping slowly at first, but then with increasing fervor until it was pouring.

The orcs marched forward. Tauriel heard Aragorn calling commands in Sindarin to the elven warriors.

"Show them no mercy, for you shall receive none!" he shouted.

There came a guttural cry from the orc leader. The army stopped, only a few hundred feet away from the walls. The two opposing forces simply stared at each other for awhile, waiting for the other to strike the first blow.

"What's happening out there?" Gimli demanded. Tauriel could hear him shuffling and jumping, straining to get a view over the rampart wall.

"Shall I describe it to you?" Legolas teased. "Or would you like me to get you a box?"

Tauriel raised her eyebrows, half-afraid Gimli would take offense. After a pause, however, the dwarf only laughed.

The orc leader cried out again, and the orc army began to roar and pound their spears into the ground. The Rohirrim warriors drew their bows, but Tauriel and the Galadhrim, having received no such order from either Aragorn or Haldir, did nothing.

Suddenly, an arrow flew through air, shot from this side of the wall. Tauriel held her breath as it soared through the rain and into the ranks of the orcs.

The arrow landed in an orc's chest. Tauriel heard its scream.

"Hold!" Aragorn shouted.

The orc fell forward, dead. The first casualty. Its companions growled, their complaints crescendoing into furious screams. Their leader, standing on a rock outcropping, raised its sword and shouted a command in Black Speech. The orcs surged forward.

"Prepare to fire!" Aragorn commanded.

Now the elves drew arrows to their bows. Tauriel's eyes pinpointed an orc in the crowd, aiming her arrow at it.

"Their armor is weak at the neck and beneath the arms," Legolas called out. Tauriel readjusted her aim.

"Release your arrows!" Aragorn called.

The elves let their arrows fly in almost perfect unison. Tauriel watched as her arrow soared through the air, hitting its mark dead-on. She smirked, nocking another arrow to her bow.

Around her victim, other orcs fell as well.

"Did they hit anything?" Gimli shouted over the fray.

A Rohirrim commander cried to his men, "Fire!" His call was echoed, and the fighting began in earnest. Tauriel shot down several more orcs with precision, her mind detached and cool.

"Fire!" Aragorn called again, but he did not need to say it. All the elves shot at their own targets, but for every orc they shot down, another took its place.

An orc approached with a crossbow, aiming up to the wall, finally close enough to fire back. It shot wildly up to the ramparts, but its arrow found its mark. An elf cried out, struck, and fell off the wall. Tauriel's heart skipped a beat, but she kept her focus on the battle.

The orcs stormed forward, pushing ladders against the wall. Aragorn screamed out, "Ladders!"

Orc warriors continued to shoot up to the wall, and more fell. Ladders were pushed up against the wall, and orcs began the climb to the top of the wall. Close combat was about to begin.

"Swords! Swords!" Aragorn yelled. Tauriel grimaced, putting away her bow and drawing her sword. She preferred long range combat, being an excellent archer. For close combat she had her knives, but she could tell that her sword would be most useful in this situation. These orcs had thick armor, and she didn't want them to get too close.

Orcs swarmed over the top of the wall, and the fighting began in earnest. Tauriel lost count of the orcs she killed, but she was for the most part unharmed. One particularly vicious beast scored a shallow cut on her left arm before she decapitated it, but it did not hurt enough for her to pay much notice to it.

She could hear Legolas and Gimli bantering over the fray, but she did not pay attention to what they were saying. She had her own problems to worry about, and though she was confident in her skill, the amount of orcs attacking the stronghold frightened her. Never, save in the Battle of the Five Armies, had she fought against so many, and the numbers of the defenders were few.

"Causeway!" Aragorn shouted. Tauriel heard the elf archers directing their fire in a different way, but she was not among them, still being caught up in the close fighting on the wall.

Tauriel killed orc after orc, dancing around her attackers and the corpses at her feet. She heard Aragorn continually shouting commands as he dashed around the battlefield. In a rare moment of calm, she stood panting for breath where the rampart walkway led up into the keep. Aragorn screamed now directly at Legolas: "Bring him down, Legolas! Kill him! _Kill him_!"

Tauriel could not see which orc he wished Legolas to kill, but the increasing anxiety in his voice told her that Legolas was missing his mark. Then the wall exploded.

Those who had been unfortunate to stand above where the explosion originated flew through the air. Debris soared everywhere, and Tauriel screamed, ducking into the the stairway opening to avoid being hit by a chunk of falling rock.

When the dust cleared, it became obvious that the orcs had taken their opportunity to invade the the keep and breach the deeping wall immediately. Tauriel swore loudly, rushing back into the fray. She leaped off the remnants of the wall down to the ground, ready to face the swarm of orcs.

She arrived just as Aragorn ordered a charge. She joined the elven warriors in their advance, meeting the orcs head on. Around her, elves were skewered on orc spears, but she kept her distance, rushing her enemies at their sides. They didn't see her coming, and she soon cut a bloody path through their ranks.

All too soon, Aragorn put an end to the fighting by the wall. "To the keep!" he commanded. "Pull back to the keep! Haldir, to the keep!"

Tauriel grimaced. She finished off the orc she was dealing with, then sprinted away from the fighting. She made eye contact with Rúmil, who smiled at her grimly, then jerked his head toward the keep. She nodded, running after him. She saw Orophin running to catch up to his brother and hoped that Haldir would lead the rest of the Galadhrim back to safety.

Someone grabbed her arm. Out of instinct, the tension of battle running through her blood, Tauriel whirled on them with her sword.

"Tauriel!" the person shouted. She relaxed, lowering her weapons as she recognized him.

"Legolas," she said. "I thought you were an orc!"

He snorted. "Well, it's not the first time. It hurts my feelings to know you find me that ugly."

She laughed. "What is it?"

"Come with me," he said, turning back towards the mass of approaching orcs. "Gimli does not wish to retreat."

She nodded, following him. Gimli still stood among his enemies, chopping them down methodically with his axe. Tauriel could not see either Aragorn or Haldir down on the ground, and elves fled the area all around them. Gimli stood his ground alone.

Tauriel drew her bow, shooting at the orcs from afar to give Gimli some aid. Legolas rushed in, dodging swings from the dwarf's axe and grabbing his arm.

"We must fall back!" Legolas shouted.

"I'll not surrender!" Gimli bellowed. "There's more guts in this dwarf than in you, Lord Pointy Ears!"

Legolas swore, tugging on Gimli's arm. Only Tauriel's arrows had stopped them from being killed while Gimli stubbornly stood his ground.

"Tauriel, come help me!" Legolas shouted. She dashed forward, putting away her bow and drawing her sword again. She cut through the swarm of orcs until she reached Gimli. She reached out and grabbed his other arm, helping Legolas pull him back to safety.

Gimli kicked and screamed as they dragged him away, too drunk on the heat of battle to think straight. "What are you doing? Arghh!" Tauriel would have laughed at his obstinace had not the situation been so dire; as it was, she exchanged a grin with Legolas. "What are you stopping for?" Gimli demanded.

They pulled him all the way back to the keep. By the time they reached the great stone fortress, Gimli had stopped fighting. A door stood open with elves streaming through it up into the keep, and other elves standing guard and shooting any orc that came close. Legolas stopped, waiting for an opening so the three of them could pass through the door.

"You can let go of me now," Gimli said stiffly. Tauriel rolled her eyes and Legolas sighed, but they released his arms. The dwarf turned around and glared at each of them. "That was a bit unnecessary, lad," he growled to Legolas.

"It was either that or leave you to be killed," Legolas said mildly.

"I'd rather not let another dwarf die on my watch," Tauriel said quietly.

Gimli looked at her oddly. Then understanding lit up his eyes. "You were at the Battle of the Five Armies, weren't you, lass?"

She nodded. He sighed explosively. "Well, I suppose I ought to thank you both. Though you must promise to never lay a finger on me again."

"Of course," Tauriel said with a straight face.

"We'll see," Legolas replied. Gimli glared at him, but his frown soon melted into a hearty laugh.

The doorway now stood clear for them. Legolas dashed through it and up the stairs, Gimli and Tauriel behind him. Elves amassed on the upper floors, preparing to defend the keep. They may have let the orcs breach the deeping wall, but they could still fight to retain the rest of the Hornburg.

Tauriel looked around for Haldir and Aragorn, but she could not find either of them. Rúmil and Orophin had taken charge in Haldir's absence, ordering their warriors around. Tauriel stuck close to Legolas and Gimli, who were now reviewing who was further ahead in kills.

At last, Aragorn ran up the stairs. Legolas and Gimli cried out in relief, rushing toward him in happiness.

"I knew you'd make it!" Gimli laughed. "I knew it!"

"We were a bit worried there," Legolas admitted. Tauriel hung behind them, not wishing to intrude.

Aragorn smiled tightly. "Yes, I survived, thank the Valar. But Haldir..." He trailed off. Tauriel's eyes widened. No...

"Haldir is dead," he said grimly.

Gimli gasped loudly. Legolas bowed his head. The news hit Tauriel like a blow, more hurtful than any orc's blade. Haldir was dead. What awful orc had killed him? Tauriel felt numb, the news washing over her like a cold wind. She could scarcely believe it. She had known him since her first visit to Lothlórien, and again the second time she arrived in his homeland. He had shown such kindness unto her, encouraging her to live again, and fight alongside her kin. This battle had reinvigorated her and shown her the real threats against the world she so dearly loved. He couldn't just be...gone. Dead.

Realistically, she knew his spirit was at rest in the Halls of Mandos, recovering until he was ready to be born again, but it jarred her to know she would never see him again in this life. She stared at Aragorn in near disbelief as he told the tale of how an orc had struck Haldir down while he led his warriors into retreat. Aragorn had rushed back up to the wreck of the rampart, but he had been too late to save him.

"May his soul find rest," Legolas said quietly. Tauriel bowed her head, still reeling from the shock. Even Gimli sniffed a little, saddened at the loss of their ally and friend.

"Aragorn!" a new voice called. Tauriel looked up to see Rúmil approaching. Another pang of grief hit her: Haldir's death had reft Rúmil and Orophin from their brother. The pain for them would be all too strong.

Rúmil approached them, his expression grim. Blood dripped from a long cut on his face. Orophin lagged behind him, his eyes bleak and exhausted.

"Where is Haldir?" Rúmil asked. "One of the king's captains is asking for him."

"Haldir died," Legolas said quietly.

Rúmil's mouth fell open, his eyes filling with grief. "No!" he whispered.

"Haldir..." Orophin said, his voice breaking. He bowed his head.

"I tried to save him, but I came too late," Aragorn said. "I am very sorry, Rúmil."

"What's going on?" Gimli demanded in Westron. Tauriel realized belatedly that Rúmil had addressed them in Sindarin and the conversation had continued as such.

"They are Haldir's brothers," she explained to him, switching over to the common tongue.

Gimli's expression softened. Aragorn quickly explained to them the situation. Rúmil agreed that though he and Orophin were heartbroken, the heat of battle was not the proper time to grieve.

"I do not speak the common tongue," he apologized. He glanced at Tauriel. "Tauriel, could you help me translate to the captain?"

"Of course," she agreed.

"I will come with you," Legolas said.

"I'm going down to the gate," Aragorn said, drawing his sword. "Gimli, will you come with me?" he asked in Westron.

"Of course, lad," the dwarf said. "Let's avenge the Captain's death."

The two of them raced away. Rúmil turned and embraced Orophin, the two brothers clinging to each other in their grief. Tauriel and Legolas stood aside, not wishing to intrude. At last, they broke apart. Rúmil wiped a tear from his eye, then nodded to Tauriel. "The king's captain awaits us," he said.

When they found the king's captain, Tauriel translated for Rúmil, and it was agreed that he would take charge of the remainder of the Galadhrim. Rúmil took a section of elves to the upper half of the keep, reinforcing the Rohirrim from above. Tauriel and Legolas went above the gate, looking to watch over Aragorn and Gimli.

When they arrived, Legolas only laughed. Gimli flew through the air down below, jumping onto the orcs outside the gate from an unseen ledge. He caused quite a dent in the forces of the besieging orcs, and Aragorn soon joined him, giving the Rohirrim on the other side of the gate time to barricade the door.

"That was some jump," Legolas said admiringly.

"Yes," Tauriel agreed. "I wonder how such a small dwarf could jump so far."

"There's more to him than meets the eye," Legolas said, a note of pride tinging his voice. Tauriel looked at him sidelong, nocking an arrow to her bow. She shot down into the mass of orcs, careful to avoid Aragorn and Gimli.

"You're very fond of him, aren't you?" she said.

"Well, yes," he admitted. "He's a dear friend, after all this time. I would not say such to his face, of course, for we still have a playful rivalry, but I value his companionship very much."

Tauriel smiled at him. He was clearly very enamoured with Gimli. "This is quite a change from when you scoffed my affection for Kíli," she teased.

Legolas turned pink. He quickly fired a few arrows into the throng of orcs to distract himself. "No, no, it's not like that," he stammered. "I don't...never like that, not for you like my father thought, not for Gimli like you seem to think." He seemed very uncomfortable with the idea.

"I'm sorry," she apologized. "I suppose I shouldn't have—"

"Well, it's a reasonable thought," Legolas grumbled, venting his frustration on the orcs below. His arrows brought down several more orcs, their corpses falling off the side of the causeway. Aragorn and Gimli fought bravely, but Tauriel noticed with some concern that there were just too many orcs. They could not hold back Saruman's forces forever.

The orcs shot hooks over the battlements. From the hooks, ladders bristling full of orcs swung up to the wall, locking onto the wall with steel grips. Tauriel swore under her breath.

Legolas shot at a second ladder, breaking away one of the ropes. Now barely connected to the wall, the ladder and the orcs on it fell screaming back into the orc ranks.

"We ought to haul them up soon," she shouted to Legolas. Below, Aragorn and Gimli struggled to hold their own against the onslaught of orcs..

"Go, grab a rope," he agreed. She dashed away, calling out for a rope. A Rohirrim warrior threw one at her, and she thanked him quickly, rushing back to Legolas. She threw the rope at him, and he flung it down.

"Aragorn!" he cried out. He glanced back to Tauriel. "Help me haul them up!"

She nodded and grabbed the rope behind him. Suddenly she felt a great weight beneath her hands, and she pulled and pulled. Behind her, a few Rohirrim warriors noticed their struggle and rushed to their aid.

"I don't—like Gimli, or you or—anyone in that fashion," Legolas admitted, panting between words. Tauriel blinked. What was he talking about?—oh, yes, their earlier conversation about Gimli.

"Is this—the best time—to have this conversation?" she shouted at him.

He laughed mirthlessly. "Probably not! But I—wanted to clear up—a few misconceptions!"

"Alright!" she agreed. "I'm sure you can—explain later!"

"It's just that—" He didn't finish. He grunted, pulling on the rope even harder. Soon Aragorn's head appeared at the top of the wall. Legolas let go of the rope, pulling his friend over the wall. Gimli swore loudly beneath Aragorn, and both the elf and the human reached to help haul Gimli up to safety.

Tauriel was relieved to let go of the rope. Her hands hurt from gripping it so long, but she could not give them a rest.

Even more ladders carrying orcs were launched up to the wall, but Legolas could not take down all of them. Tauriel was the only other elven archer nearby, and they and the Rohirrim archers tried their best to fell as many ladders as they could while Aragorn, Gimli, and the other warriors fought the orcs who made it over the wall with their swords. There were just too many of them—the keep would soon be overrun.

A cry came from one of the Rohirrim captains: "Fall back! Fall back!"

"They've broken through!" the king shouted from down below. "The castle is breached! Retreat!"

"Fall back!"

"Retreat!"

Tauriel reluctantly turned, fleeing to the safety of the keep. She hated surrendering the battlements, but there was nothing more that could be done.

"Hurry! Inside! Get them inside!" Aragorn commanded.

Tauriel rushed inside, panting for breath. She was now separated from both Legolas and the Galadhrim. The Rohirrim warriors fled inside, barricading the door as soon as everyone was safe. They could hold the halls of the keep for a while, at least until dawn.

Tauriel grimaced, leaving the entrance of the keep to find Rúmil. He could tell her where she would be most helpful.

She found him in the halls, bleakly ordering his warriors around. Orophin was nowhere to be seen. Tauriel hoped he was still alive.

"Rúmil," she called. He looked at her and smiled, looking every inch exhausted.

"I'm glad to see you alive," he said. She could see grief for his brother hiding behind his eyes, fresh and horrible.

"Where's Orophin?" she asked.

"Guarding the entrance to the caves where the women and children are hiding," he said. "I doubt the orcs will break through there until there is no hope left. He needs the rest such a post will allow him."

"So do you," Tauriel pointed out.

Rúmil shook his head. "No. Haldir would have led his warriors into death—he _did_. I am in charge now. I must do the same."

Tauriel could see there was no convincing him. "Do you have any place to put me?" she asked. "They don't need me up there anymore."

Rúmil frowned. He looked at her for a few moments, then said thoughtfully, "There is a tower in the back of the keep, facing east. In it is the horn of one of the ancient lords of this land, the Helm Hammerhand the fortress was named after. It is also an excellent watchtower overlooking the top of the valley."

"Yes," she said.

"Go there. It is up that way." He pointed to the left. "Take the third left, then the second right. That hall will lead to the tower. Watch for any approaching warriors, whether they be friend or foe."

"Shall I shoot at the orcs from above?" she asked. "I think I could lay a few to rest."

To her surprise, Rúmil shook his head. "No. I want you to lay low. Don't let the orcs know you're there."

"Alright," Tauriel said. She touched his arm lightly. "Stay strong, Rúmil."

"Stay strong," he whispered, closing his eyes. She wasn't sure if he was wishing her luck in return or repeating it to convince himself that he could.

Tauriel left, following Rúmil's instructions. She found the horn, and peeked over the wall surrounding it. It was still dark and raining, though the downpour had let up into a drizzle. Dawn was still several hours away.

The battle had died down and turned into a siege. Orcs pounded methodically on the door to the keep, but Tauriel had seen the Rohirrim barricading it and knew it would not break anytime soon.

The battlefield was desolate. Rain and mud covered the corpses of the elves, men, and orcs littered across the ground. It was a depressing sight. Orcs still milled around on the ground, but the majority of Saruman's forces focused their efforts on claiming the keep.

Tauriel covered her head with navy blue Galadhrim cloak and hunkered down in the scant shelter the horn provided. She would check periodically for approachers, but she needed to rest. She would not sleep, but she could rest her body for a while.

There was a long wait until dawn.

* * *

The sky slowly turned from black to grey with the coming of the sun. No friend or foe had approached from the valley. Several times during the night, the orcs had almost broken through into the halls of the keep, but each time, the king had sent some of his men out to beat them back temporarily.

Tauriel watched this all, unable to help. The battle fervor had left her, and she was now simply exhausted. She knew grief and emotion would overcome her late, but for now, it took all of her energy and focus just to stay awake.

Behind her, she heard thumping footsteps. Worried that somehow an orc had broken in, Tauriel nocked an arrow to her bow and aimed for the entrance to the tower.

But when the owner of the footsteps appeared, she relaxed. It was Gimli. She put her bow away and greeted him.

"Gimli!" she called out.

To her surprise, he was grinning. He raced up to her with a new light in his eyes.

"Tauriel, lass!" he shouted.

"What's going on?" she asked. "Do Legolas or Rúmil want me back in the keep?"

"No," he said. "They're riding out with the dawn—Legolas, the new elf captain, Aragorn, Théoden and some of his men. I'm no good on a horse, so they sent me to blow the horn. One final stand, one last ride for the Rohirrim!"

Tauriel smiled. One last ride. If they were to surrender the keep, it would not be willingly. "Go," she said. "Blow the horn."

Gimli laughed heartily, quickly embracing her before rushing toward the horn. Tauriel, shocked, stood and watched him blow the horn. She was very strongly reminded of his father. He was Glóin's son, through and through.

The sound of the horn rang through the valley, filling Tauriel with new vigor. She raced to the tower wall, looking to the valley's rim with a wild hope.

She thought it was a trick of the light a first, but a second look confirmed the reality of her vision. On the valley rise were horses beyond counting, each with a rider full of energy. Fresh warriors! She could barely believe it!

At their head was Mithrandir! Tauriel cheered in her joy as they spilled down into the valley, destroying all orcs in their path. From the keep rushed the remaining defenders, crushing the orcs between them.

Gimli blew the horn again, then rushed up to join her in celebration. Tauriel drew her bow and emptied her quiver of its remaining arrows, shooting down into the mass of panicked orcs.

Tauriel and Gimli left the tower soon after to aid in the victory of the Rohirrim. In only an hour, all the orcs had either fled or been slaughtered. Helm's Deep had been saved.

Tauriel grinned in the morning sunlight, cleaning her blades of orcish blood. Somehow they had been victorious, though it had been a long night and she was utterly exhausted. She had fulfilled her promise to Haldir, and though he had not survived the battle, she had. She would live on to fight another day—and that day would be soon in coming. The free peoples of Middle-earth would not have a long respite. Sauron and Saruman still conspired against all lands, including the Greenwood. It was finally time for Tauriel to go home.


	17. Chapter 17

After the battle was over, Tauriel first found Rúmil and Orophin. Thankfully, they were both still alive, though certainly worse for wear. Orophin sported a broken arm, and Rúmil looked so exhausted that Tauriel feared he might fall over in a faint if he was given any more responsibilities.

Tauriel herself was also tired. Her injuries, however, were minor, and she felt she was better off than either of Haldir's brothers.

"Tauriel," Orophin said as she came up to them. His eyes were hollow and unhappy, despite the victory. "At least you survived."

"Yes," she agreed. "Rúmil, Orophin...you two look terrible. I imagine you feel worse. Have you gotten your injuries checked? It looks like your arm is broken, Orophin."

Rúmil only grunted. Orophin flashed him a worried glance, then sighed, cradling his broken arm. "No," he admitted. "There are others worse off than us."

Tauriel shook her head. "You two are in charge now. You need to be healed just as much as anyone else. You can't help your people if you topple over dead from infection."

"What people?" Rúmil said bleakly. "A third of our forces were killed, Tauriel. A _third_. And Haldir—" His voice broke. "Haldir died. I couldn't grieve properly in the midst of battle, but now..."

Orophin, beside him, began to cry. Tauriel felt helpless in comforting them. She knew this was hard to take. Haldir's absence cut her like a knife, but she could only imagine the pain his brothers felt.

"I know," she said softly. "It hurts. It always will. He's gone, and you wish he was still here. We all do. But you've got to keep going." She swallowed, tears budding in her eyes. She spoke not only to them, but to herself. Haldir had been a good person. He'd led his people into a hopeless battle, and though he had not made it out, they had won. And her mind still stretched back to a time that seemed ages away now, when she had first lost Kíli. Then, it had seemed that the pain would never lessen, that she would never be at peace. She still hurt, all these years later. But her grief had not consumed her. She had gone on, pressed forward, as she and the brothers must do now.

"You didn't deserve this," she continued, "and neither did Haldir, or the rest of your fallen warriors. But you still have two thirds of your warriors to lead, whether you take them back home or you keep pressing forward alongside the Rohirrim. Get some help. Orophin, you need a healer for that arm, and Rúmil, you need to rest."

Rúmil looked at her for a long moment. Then he sighed, turning to Orophin.

"Let's go," he said, wrapping an arm around his brother. "You're right, Tauriel. Thank you."

They left, and Tauriel suddenly felt exhausted. She didn't need a healer—at least, she could wait for one. She found a blanket and an empty patch of ground, then curled up and went to sleep. Pain would hit her when she woke, but for now, she needed to rest.

* * *

When Tauriel woke, she was stiff and aching. She groaned as she sat up, stretching. Every muscle was sore and screaming in protest as she got up. The chaos around her had calmed down some. People, both Rohirrim and Galadhrim alike, had settled down and begun to repair the damages done by the orcs. It was night now. A few stars shone through a thin cloud layer, illuminating the darkness.

Tauriel found an unoccupied healer, who tended to her wounds. Her muscles were still stiff, though feeling much better. She got up and walked around the Keep to loosen them up some.

She found Haldir's brothers together. Rúmil was asleep in a healer's tent, Orophin by his side. His broken arm had been bandaged, and he was wore fresh clothes. Tauriel herself felt filthy. She ought to change into new garments, herself.

"Thank you for helping us this morning," Orophin said as she approached. "You were right, seeing a healer helped. I got the word out to the remaining Galadhrim. We're marching onward under King Théoden's command, as long as the Rohirrim still need us." He paused. "Rúmil would ask you himself were he not sleeping, but...are you coming with us? We know your agreement with Haldir wasn't that you would stay with us forever."

Tauriel frowned. "Do you need me?" she asked. "I am just an outsider. I know you and Rúmil and Haldir better than I did anyone else. I would like to help, but this battle is won. There are others that will be fought elsewhere, including in the Greenwood. I need to go back."

Orophin nodded. Rúmil stirred in his sleep, then went still again.

"We don't _need_ you," Orophin said quietly. "But Rúmil and I... Haldir was always the captain, not us. And we can't speak Westron like he could. You were Captain back in the Greenwood, and you can help us communicate." He looked at her hopefully. "If you could stay, at least for a couple of days, that would help us. Just so long as it takes for us to feel better about being in charge."

Tauriel's heart softened. "Of course," she agreed. "I'll help you, for a few days."

Orophin clasped her hand. "Thank you," he told her gratefully. "It truly helps."

She nodded. "You're welcome." She looked around. "Have you seen Legolas anywhere? I want to talk to him."

Orophin frowned. "I think he was helping clear the orc bodies off the Keep. You can check over there."

"Thank you," she said. She left to look for Legolas. She found him, Gimli, and Aragorn hauling orc bodies into a big pile.

"We're going to burn them," Gimli explained as she approached. "A big orc bonfire! That'll show them." He grinned.

"Good," she agreed. "It's what they deserve." She spat on an orc corpse to show her contempt. She hoped it was the one who had killed Haldir, though she knew it was unlikely.

Tauriel caught Legolas's eye. "Can I talk with you?" she asked. "In private?"

He nodded. He dropped the orc corpse he was carrying, then followed her out of anyone else's earshot.

"What is it?" he asked.

"I thought about what you said in Rivendell," Tauriel began. "I've decided. I'm going back to the Greenwood."

Legolas broke into a smile. "Excellent!" he exclaimed. "Everyone will be delighted to have you back—except perhaps my father. Don't worry, I'll put in a word for you. He can't stay angry forever."

"I wouldn't put it past him," she said drily. "But no. Thank you for the offer, but I'm going back on my own terms. As soon as Rúmil and Orophin are comfortable and in control of the remainder of the Galadhrim, I'm going back home." _Home_. She hadn't said that word in a long time. But the Greenwood _was_ her home, even after all these years. She had been delayed long enough: it was time for her to return—soon. Very soon.

Legolas's eyes widened. "Oh!" he said. "Well, I wish you luck. We will always need help guarding our borders, especially now during a time of war."

"Yes," she agreed. She looked at Legolas fondly. "Thank you for being my friend."

He smiled. "Of course. And thank you for being mine."

"I would not wish it any other way," Tauriel said. "Even after all this time."

"I am glad," Legolas said, "for friends are very important to me." He paused, glancing away briefly. "Do you remember our conversation up on the Keep, when we were pulling Aragorn and Gimli back up?"

Tauriel frowned. "Yes," she said. "You were telling me about how you were not romantically interested in Gimli, or me, or anyone else."

"Yes," Legolas agreed. "But we were interrupted. I mean, what I was trying to say was just that...my whole life, my father, and everyone else, it seemed, expected me to fall in love and settle down." He shook his head. "But it never happened. I'm nearly three thousand years old, much older than you are, and I've never been in love."

Tauriel nodded. "Yes. I always thought so. Your father seemed to believe differently, though, so I was never sure."

He smiled half-heartedly. "We have talked about this since you left. He understands now. But yes, I don't fall in love."

"I'm glad you know yourself that well," Tauriel told him. She smiled, patting him on the arm. "And I'm glad to be your friend."

"Thank you," Legolas said. He smiled, for real this time. "I have so many good friends, romance is simply unnecessary."

Tauriel laughed. "Good! Romance isn't always worth it." She sighed, thinking of Kíli. If she hadn't fallen in love with him, life would have been so different. She didn't regret it, but Legolas was happy with his life, and that was good.

"Do you really think your father will forgive me?" she asked.

Legolas shrugged. "Yes. It will not be easy, but he will. He wants you to come back, Tauriel. You were an excellent guard captain, and you opened his eyes to the outside world. He has changed. You may not believe it, but he has."

"I will have to see for myself," she said. She sighed. "It is hard to believe."

"He will take you back," Legolas said.

Tauriel raised an eyebrow. If Thranduil truly had changed, he would be a different person than the one she had known. But perhaps Legolas was right. "We will see," she said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tauriel will go home, I promise, it's just taking awhile.  
> Thanks for reading and commenting!


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really love this chapter. This was one of the very first ideas I had for this fic, and I'm so excited to finally be posting it!

Several days after the Battle of Helm's Deep, the Rohirrim King had led his people to Harrowdale to muster for the oncoming war. They were to ride for Minas Tirith to aid their kindred in Gondor. Tauriel helped Rúmil and Orophin ease into their leadership role, and as Aragorn and Legolas helped translate for them, her presence among the gathering warriors felt largely pointless. She yearned to return to the Greenwood, and she did not feel useful here any longer.

At last, she resolved to leave. There was nothing more holding her back. She said her heartfelt goodbyes to Legolas, Rúmil, and Orophin, then packed her belongings and prepared to leave.

The journey would be long if she were to take it on foot, so the Rohirrim King granted her request of a mount. She liked the horse, a sturdy mare named Wilrun, and felt comfortable on her back.

Tauriel left the Rohirrim camp light-hearted, glad to finally be on the journey home. She had barely exited the camp, however, when she saw a peculiar sight: a woman sitting all by herself, holding a sword.

Curious, Tauriel dismounted and walked swiftly toward her. The woman looked vaguely familiar. She was golden-haired, clearly a woman of Rohan.

"My lady?" she asked curiously. "Is everything alright?"

The woman sprang to her feet and swung the sword in her direction, startled. Tauriel danced out of the way, impressed. If she had not had the quick reflexes of an elf, she would have been hurt.

"Oh—I'm sorry!" the woman exclaimed, lowering her sword. "I didn't—"

"It's fine," Tauriel said, smiling.

"You're—an elf woman," the woman said surprise. "What are you doing here, my lady?"

"Well...leaving," Tauriel said, gesturing toward her horse. "But I saw you all alone and I wanted to make sure you were alright."

"You must be the elf my uncle gave the horse to," the woman said. She curtsied, her movements clumsy with the sword still in hand. "I am Éowyn, sister-daughter of King Théoden."

She was royalty. Tauriel must have seen her sometime when translating for Rúmil. "I am Tauriel of Mirkwood," she said, using the common name for her forest home.

"What brings you to Rohan, so far from home?" Éowyn asked. She sat back down, and Tauriel did likewise.

"It's a long story," Tauriel said vaguely. "What matters is that I am returning home."

"I may not be," Éowyn said bitterly. She looked down at the sword again. "I do not wish to."

"A life of wandering is not fit for a princess," Tauriel warned her. "Nor for me, any longer."

Éowyn laughed hollowly. "That is not what I meant. I am to die in the coming storm, one way or another. Sauron's forces will crush my kingdom. Only, the men get to die valiantly in battle, where women are only to cower and hide until we wither away and perish."

"I have lived through dark times before," Tauriel said, unsure of how to comfort her. "The outcome of this war is still unknown. Have hope, my lady. All is not yet lost."

"Why must I stay in my cage when all is lost?" Éowyn demanded bitterly, ignoring Tauriel's words. "I wish to fight and die in glory—a shieldmaiden of Rohan! Is that too much to ask?"

"Have you approached your uncle the king with your desires?" Tauriel asked. "Truly he must see you can wield a sword."

"He does, for he taught me himself," Éowyn said. "But no, I must stay behind and lead my people, he says. What people? The old, the weak, and the young. While he rides to death in glory."

"I am sorry," Tauriel said softly. "It is not fair. I was Captain of the Guard in Mirkwood, before...before I left."

Éowyn turned to her, her eyes alight. "You were?" she asked. "Even as a woman?"

"Yes," Tauriel confirmed. "I was best suited for the position. My king saw that. I served him well, before I...before I left." She stopped, snorting bitterly. She did not tell Éowyn the truth, that she was a traitor. Would Thranduil still hold that grudge against her, or had he truly changed as Legolas had said?

"Why would you leave such a life?" Éowyn demanded. "The honor you would have, defending your people!" She sighed.

Tauriel looked away, not wishing to tell her why. Instead, she spoke of something else.

"I knew another, the sister-child of a king," Tauriel told her. "He went to war in his youth, and he died." She remembered Kíli bitterly. He had so much life yet to live. He could still have been alive now, had he not been slain. She was met with a fresh stab of grief, thinking of the life they could have had together.

"I do not fear death," Éowyn said stubbornly. "I welcome it."

Tauriel looked at the young maiden, troubled. She was so reminded of Kíli: her youth, her spirit, her skill. She was such a stranger to her, and yet Tauriel found herself caring for this young human maiden. But death overshadowed her, and she did not know what to say to her.

After a few moments of silence, Éowyn spoke again. "Did your prince—did he have a family?" she asked, her voice soft.

"Yes," Tauriel said quietly. She paused, then told Éowyn, "They all died with him."

The Rohirrim girl flinched. Though she did not seem to care about herself, she did love her family. Tauriel wished she had a better, happier story to tell, but she had only the truth.

"I cannot tell you what to do, my lady," Tauriel warned her. "Go to war, stay with your people... Death awaits you on either front. Neither is more worthy than the other."

The Tauriel before the Battle of the Five Armies had been just as fiery and rash as Éowyn. She would have encouraged Éowyn's pursuits into battle in a heartbeat. The Tauriel of now was different. She still saw value in fighting for a cause, but Éowyn wanted glory, not victory. She would gain nothing from this war if she stayed, but neither would she gain by leaving. Perhaps in her struggles she would learn as Tauriel had learned, but perhaps she would die.

Éowyn's expression hardened. "You are just like the rest," she growled. "You want me to stay behind. I am not weak!"

"I did not say you were weak," Tauriel told her. "You must choose your own path. But it need not be to ruin."

She stood, having nothing more to say to the young woman. Éowyn looked away from her stubbornly. On impulse, Tauriel slipped off one of her armbands and handed it to her.

"Take this," she said. Surprised, Éowyn reached out her hand and took it, puzzlement showing clearly in her eyes.

"If you do travel to the battlefield, tie your hair back," Tauriel told her firmly. "With your skill, you probably already know this, but a braid is better than a ponytail. Do not let hair in your face cause your death. That would not be glorious at all. Don't endanger your life over hair."

Éowyn cracked a smile. She slipped the band onto her own arm and looked up to her in gratitude. Tauriel squared her shoulders, then turned back to her horse.

She was surprised by a fierce embrace from Éowyn. She remembered Haldir's awkward reaction from Aragorn's hug and tried not to fight off the uncomfortable and unusual feeling of closeness to a stranger. She hesitantly wrapped her arm around Éowyn in return, patting her back awkwardly.

"Thank you, Captain," Éowyn whispered, her voice strained.

"You're welcome, my lady," Tauriel whispered. "Fight like a woman, Éowyn. You will survive, I believe in you."

After a few moments, Éowyn let go of her. She picked up her sword and sheathed it, her eyes set on the camp.

When Tauriel mounted Wilrun again, she looked back before heading out to the north. Éowyn was gone, walking back into the camp.

Tauriel smiled. If Éowyn went to war, she pitied the orcs that would cross her path.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I always thought Eowyn having her hair flying around in Return of the King was a bit ridiculous, so let's imagine that she takes Tauriel's advice in the universe I've created for this fic. Sure, it's canon compliant, but I can change a few things here and there...  
> Thank you so much for reading and commenting!


	19. Chapter 19

_Under cloud, beneath the stars_  
_Over snow and winter's morn  
_ _I turn at last to paths that lead home_

* * *

Tauriel road long and hard for three days. On the evening of the third day, she saw at last the forest. The sight of it—leagues and leagues of dark green leaves, spanning across the horizon—took her breath away. She had not seen her home in nearly seventy years. The ache of longing to walk among the trees that had plagued her for so long hurt her heart in a nearly physical manner as she beheld the forest before her. She could scarcely wait any longer to return.

She nudged Wilrun into a run, smiling as she grew ever nearer to the Greenwood. She laughed as the wind swept through her long red hair. It had been such a long, long time since she had been home.

When Tauriel reached the forest, she pulled Wilrun back. She leapt off her horse and turned to face her, holding the mare's head in her hands. She could not take this faithful horse into the wood. It was far too dangerous. But she knew of Beorn, the skinchanger, and of his descendents. They lived near here. If Wilrun could find him and his family, she would be safe there.

"Go find the skinchangers," she whispered to the mare in Sindarin, hoping she would understand. "They will take care of you."

Wilrun snorted softly, then turned away from Tauriel. She walked a ways away, then glanced back at Tauriel one last time before running off into the distance.

Tauriel watched her go, then turned back to face the forest. Her skin tingled as she stepped forward, running her hand across the closest tree gently. She breathed in the cool forest air and glanced up to the sky.

The stars shone brightly on this clear night. Once, long ago, she had wandered to the edge of the forest as often as she could, to better see the stars. Beneath them, she felt peace and wonder. The sky went on forever, and its beauty filled her with hope. Even now, in these dark times, Tauriel could not help but smile as she saw the glimmering lights above her.

But the world did not fall away from her as it once had, leaving her carefree. Instead, the stars whispered to her soul, urging to her step back into the forest and return to the Greenwood at long last. Tauriel gazed for a few moments more up at their splendor, filling her heart with purpose.

Then she turned and vanished into the forest, letting the trees envelop her in the embrace of a parent welcoming a wayward child back home. She left the stars behind her, holding one hand on the hilt of her dagger and the other clasped around Kíli's promise stone.

* * *

The paths had not changed much since the days before the Battle of the Five Armies. If anything, they were clearer and more accessible, but regardless, Tauriel had no difficulty navigating her paths through the forest.

Tauriel walked silently beneath the trees. The forest was full of life, and she met no opposition to her journey. She marveled at the change the forest itself had undergone since she was last here. Gone was the foreboding blackness and the evil of the spiders. The fall of the Necromancer in Dol Guldur had rid the Greenwood of that scourge.

Still, there was a wary mood. The leaves of the trees whispered to each other, and she thought she could hear voices carried by the wind, though she could not make out any of their words. The war still hung heavily upon all parts of the world, including her home.

Once during the night she encountered a pile of orc carcasses, embedded with arrows. She was shocked to see them. She had seen some signs of foul creatures in the forest, but they had been small and she had not thought much of them. Now she realized that though in returning to the Greenwood, she felt she had escaped it, war was still a looming threat. She needed to get to Thranduil as soon as she could.

Tauriel wished she could encounter another elf. She buzzed with anxiety as she thought of meeting her old friends again. What would they say? Would her friends among the guard remember her? Would they forgive her for her betrayal and abandonment of her home? Would they welcome her back with open arms, or would they turn their weapons on her? Was she still an outcast? What would Thranduil think of her return?

After a long night of swift travel, Tauriel reached the edge of the area routinely patrolled by the Guard. While the whole forest was under Thranduil's control, only a few leagues around the halls of the king were considered the domain of the Guard. Unless called to some other part of the kingdom, the King's Guard kept close to home.

Tauriel walked slower now. She wanted to run into the Guard, but she was afraid of encountering someone she knew. Depending on who she ran into, it could be very—

"Freeze!" a voice shouted behind her.

Tauriel ignored the command, instinctively spinning around and drawing her knives. The elf in front of her pointed an arrow at her, a scowl upon her face. She was tall, with brown eyes and hair.

When Tauriel saw her, she nearly dropped her knives in surprise.

"Midhel?" she exclaimed.

Midhel's eyes widened. She lowered her bow, staring at her in shock. "Tauriel?"

"I..." Tauriel didn't know what to say. Midhel had been her close companion in the Guard, her second-in-command. With a pang, Tauriel realized that her dark hair reminded her of Losseth. Would Midhel, knowing the truth about Kíli or perhaps some bastardized rumor that had spread in her years of absence, hate her just as Losseth had?

But to her surprise, Midhel dropped her bow and embraced her. This act was highly unusual, both for elves in general and for Midhel. Neither were renowned for being physically affectionate.

Shocked, Tauriel embraced her back. Midhel was the first elven body she had touched in a long time, and she smelled comfortingly of home.

When they broke apart, Midhel beamed, wiping a tear from her eyes.

"I never thought I'd see you again!" she exclaimed. "After you left..."

"I'm—I'm sorry," Tauriel apologized. "I couldn't come back after...everything that had happened, even if Thranduil would have let me."

"Tauriel, it's fine," Midhel said. "You're back now. That's all that matters."

Tauriel smiled, grateful for her friend's support. She disagreed—there were other things that mattered, but she was touched by Midhel's words.

"How are things here?" Tauriel asked.

Midhel frowned. "After you left, his Majesty appointed me Captain of the Guard," she told her. "For a while, things were good. I married Iesteth only a few years after the Battle of the Five Armies."

"Congratulations," Tauriel murmured. Midhel and Iesteth had been dancing around each other for two hundred years. She was glad they had finally figured things out.

"But in recent years..." Midhel trailed off. "Orcs have made a resurgence. We've managed to hold off most of them, but war is on the horizon. The king sent his son on some diplomatic mission, and he hasn't been back since."

"Legolas is fine, I spoke with him only a few days ago," Tauriel assured her. "But...war is coming very fast. Faster than you think, Midhel. I came from the front in Rohan, walking in the secret paths to get this close, but there are orcs everywhere. Even in the forest."

Midhel's eyes widened. "The king must know this!"

"Yes, he must," Tauriel agreed grimly. "Midhel, will you take me to him?"

"Of course," Midhel agreed. She hesitated. "Tauriel, I hold no grudge against you, but others did not know you as well as I. Please...be careful with King Thranduil."

Tauriel nodded. "Don't worry," she said firmly. "I will."


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been such a while, I've been really busy with school starting. Here's chapter 20!

As Midhel led her to Thranduil's halls, Tauriel was struck by both how familiar and strange everything was. More than sixty years had passed since she had left the Greenwood, and in that time much had changed. The trees were taller, older, with now a different story than her own. The paths, once so crooked and winding, were now clear and showed signs of recent use.

But much was still the same. Midhel was still her kind, responsible self, and a true friend. The same stars still shone above them, obscured by the forest's leaves.

Tauriel wondered if Thranduil had changed or stayed the same.

Not wanting to be recognized, she pulled her hood over her distinctive red hair. It would still be possible for someone to realize who she was by remembering her face, but her hair was her most obvious and distinguishing trait.

"Midhel, can you take me to the king as quietly as you can?" she asked. "I do not want to alert others of my presence until I am sure I can stay."

Midhel nodded. "I will take you the back way," she promised. "But do not worry—his Majesty will surely see you stay."

Tauriel was not so convinced, but the tidings she carried were important enough that she would risk Thranduil's displeasure if it meant he learned of the oncoming attack. And even if she ended up in the same prisons she had first met Kíli in, returning home would make it worth it.

When they reached Thranduil's halls, Tauriel shivered at the familiar sight. Across the narrow bridge spanning the forest river, soldiers stood guard at the entrance. Through the doors, Tauriel caught a glimpse of the elegantly carved halls she had once called her home.

Midhel turned and walked not across the main bridge, but around it to a much smaller crossing. This led to another door, manned by only one guard.

When they reached the entrance, the guard looked at them quizzically. Tauriel glanced away, keeping her face down.

"Midhel, who is this?" he asked.

Midhel glanced at Tauriel. "She would rather remain anonymous."

The guard frowned. "I'm not allowed to let any strangers in, Midhel, you know my orders."

"I'm Captain of the Guard, Crabandir," Midhel reminded him. "I outrank you. I wish to take her with me inside."

When Midhel said his name, Tauriel realized who he was in a flash. She remembered him—he had been friends with one of her foster parents' trainees, and she was sure she had spoken to him once or twice while he was on duty.

"I don't answer to you, Midhel," Crabandir said evenly, laying a hand on the hilt of his sword. "Please, just tell me her name and her purpose for entering the king's realm."

Tauriel sighed. This wasn't worth the conflict. She lifted her hood off her head and nodded to him. "Crabandir," she said. "It's me, Tauriel."

Crabandir's eyes widened. "Tauriel?" he exclaimed, astonished. "I haven't seen you in nearly a hundred years! Weren't you..." He glanced at Midhel, no doubt remembering that Tauriel used to have her friend's rank in the Guard. "...banished?" he asked.

Tauriel nodded, her lips twisting in a scowl. "Yes," she admitted.

"She's with me," Midhel said firmly. "I'm taking her to the king. Whether he approves of her returning unwarranted is his business, not yours."

Worry crossed Crabandir's face. "Will his Majesty be displeased if I let her in?"

"No, of course not," Tauriel snapped. She grew impatient with this guard's antics. "If anything, he'll be glad to see me again so he can throw me in the dungeons."

Crabandir glared at her. "I didn't ask _you_. You're banished, you have no authority here any more."

"You were simply allowing the Captain of the Guard into the halls with a prisoner," Midhel said, more patiently than Tauriel could manage. "He will be fine with your actions."

Crabandir sighed. "Alright," he said reluctantly. "Go ahead." He turned aside, allowing the two of them to pass through into Thranduil's halls.

Tauriel quickly covered her hair. "What an ass," she muttered under her breath as soon as they were out of earshot of the guard.

"There's a reason he's on guard duty and not out in the forest," Midhel agreed. "Come. We'll go faster now that we're inside. The king should be in his council room. I will try to arrange a private audience for you."

Tauriel glanced from side to side as she walked through the halls behind Midhel. She saw hundreds of elves, many of whom she knew. Some called greetings to Midhel, and a few cast curious glances toward her, but no one stopped them as they approached Thranduil's council room.

When they arrived, Midhel knocked on the door to the room. The elf who opened it was Feren, Captain of the Palace Guard, and former Captain of the King's Guard. When he saw Midhel and Tauriel, his eyes widened.

"Feren, who is it?" a voice asked from inside the room. The hair on the back of Tauriel's neck stood up as she recognized it as belonging to Thranduil. She braced herself to speak with him.

"Your Majesty—" Feren began, but Midhel cut across him.

"My lord, it is I, Midhel," she said. "I have a visitor with me who has requested to speak with you. May we come in?"

"Yes," Thranduil said.

Feren stepped aside, staring at Tauriel like he had never seen her before. Had she really changed all that much? She didn't think so. Her heart felt different, but unless the change showed in her countenance, she thought she looked nearly the same as she had when she had left.

Tauriel walked in behind Midhel. She cast off her hood, staring at Thranduil unabashedly. She did not bow to him as Midhel did, instead gazing at him with defiance. He was no longer her ruler, and she had come to speak her mind, not to defer to his kingly wisdom.

Thranduil stared at her from his position in his chair. His blue eyes were wide, his mouth hanging slightly open. He was caught off guard by her sudden reappearance.

He quickly regained his composure and nodded to Feren. "Feren, we can discuss the matter further at another time," he said shortly. "Please excuse me. I have something else to attend to."

"Of course, your Majesty," Feren said. Casting one more shocked glance toward Tauriel, he exited the council room.

"Midhel," Thranduil said quietly. He stared at his hands. "Why is she here?"

"Thranduil," Tauriel said, boldly speaking his name instead of flattering him with a title. "That is for me to say. Midhel is blameless; all she has done is escort a prisoner to the king. Leave her be."

Thranduil pursed his lips. "Midhel. Leave us alone."

Midhel cast a frightened look to her friend, but she left, bowing to her king one more time.

"Tauriel," Thranduil said. "What are you doing here? You are banished."

"I know, and I have traveled long and far because of it," she said. "I am not the same elf I was sixty years ago. But I have returned home. Your kingdom is in grave danger, Thranduil. You must act fast."

Thranduil's expression darkened. "Do not dare to direct me how to run my kingdom," he warned her. "I am still king in the Greenwood, regardless of whether or not you are my subject."

"Orcs march on the forest," Tauriel informed him. "They will be here on the morrow. Elrond and Galadriel have already amassed their forces. For all I know, they are fighting now. The kingdoms of men will fall if nothing is done. There is a war going on, Thranduil. Where are your guards? Where are your warriors? They were not in the forest. I walked from the western border all the way to here and I saw none until I came across Midhel. You cannot avoid this war, Thranduil! You cannot act as you once did, hiding in the forest until I forced your hand against Erebor!"

Thranduil clenched his fists. He rose from his chair, his voice dark. "I am not idle whilst the world around me falls apart!" he exclaimed. "I sent Legolas, my only son, to Rivendell for a council from which he never returned, because I saw the signs! My guards have been training hard for the past five years, ready at any moment for an attack! I have even sent aid to Dale and Erebor when they called for it! You have been gone for sixty years, Tauriel, and this is not the same kingdom that you left!"

Taken aback by his response, Tauriel took a step back. "I..." She had not expected this. Legolas had been right. He _had_ changed. "I am sorry, my lord." She took a deep breath. "I acted on the knowledge of what you...of what your kingdom was like before I was banished, not on what it is now." She grimaced, admitting, "I am sorry. I simply wished to spur you into action in any way possible, even at my own expense. I care for these lands still. I have wandered across the west, searching for a home, and I have found it in the same place I left. I am sorry for intruding on your lands and assuming you were inactive. But I do not apologize for my love for my kingdom and my people."

Thranduil raised an eyebrow as she spoke. "Tauriel, you are forgiven," he said evenly. "Your words are harsh, but they are reasonable. In your place...I would have done similarly." He cracked a smile. "Perhaps we are more alike than we believe."

Tauriel laughed. This was not going at all as she expected. She had thought she would have to put up a fight, work hard to get him to listen to her, not...this. Reason. Understanding. She had judged Thranduil too harshly, her perception of him hardened and bittered by loss and time apart.

"My lord, Legolas is well," she told him. "I saw him only five days ago. He has joined a Fellowship, and travels with Gimli the dwarf and Aragorn the Ranger."

"A dwarf?" Thranduil said in surprise.

Tauriel remembered how Legolas spoke of Gimli, with such love and admiration, and decided she had best leave it to him to explain. "They are allies in war," she said instead. "As we were with the dwarves of Erebor during the Battle of the Five Armies."

"Yes," Thranduil said, nodding. "I am glad to hear he is well. I have heard scant news of him since he left nearly two years ago. Thank you, Tauriel."

"Before I left his company, Legolas said that he thought you would pardon my banishment," Tauriel said. She looked at Thranduil. "I would rejoin your kingdom as your subject, and a Guard to your realm again, if you will let me, my lord."

Thranduil stared at her for a long moment. Then he sighed. "Yes," he said. "Yes, you may return. Midhel is Captain of the Guard now, but I will allow her to take you back into her ranks. You are no longer banished. Your original crime is pardoned, for I see now it has caused you as much grief or more than it caused me."

Tauriel smiled, a weight lifting off her. "Thank you, your Majesty," she said gratefully. "It is good to be back."

"Welcome home, Tauriel." Thranduil smiled as well, closer to affectionate than she had ever seen him before. "Now. Fetch Midhel and Feren back in. We have much to discuss before war breaks tomorrow on our lands."


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is 90% Tauriel interacting with my OCs. I love them all so much but if you're not too interested I don't really blame you.  
> I finished writing this story, all that's left is uploading it! I expect it should be totally finished by the end of the year.  
> Thanks for reading and commenting!

Midhel stood outside the room, her eyes wide. When Tauriel opened the door, her friend gazed at her with anxious brown eyes.

"Are you...?" she asked, trailing off.

"He is letting me stay," Tauriel said, smiling.

Midhel beamed. Tauriel wished she could stay happy, but the looming threat of the war's arrival in the forest was hung over her. "Go find Feren, wherever he went. His Majesty wishes to speak with all of us."

* * *

The four of them spent most of the day planning for the oncoming storm. Tauriel was honored to be among Thranduil's consultants again, though she rather thought that under less dire circumstances she would not be permitted in a meeting such as this until he was more sure of her loyalties.

At last, the meeting adjourned. Thranduil sent Midhel to spread the news of the war. For weeks, rumors had flown about the increased amount of orcs and the bad tidings scouts had been reporting. Now, Midhel would confirm them as the truth.

Tauriel was to serve under Midhel in the Guard, though not as its captain. Feren, Midhel, one of Tauriel's old friends and companions in the Guard called Úrphen, and two other elves Tauriel was not very familiar with were to be wartime commanders alongside Thranduil. Border guards would be increased that very night, and Thranduil himself would set out for Dol Guldur the next morning to attack the stronghold there. Midhel, Tauriel, and Úrphen would accompany him.

Tauriel was nervous to walk about with her hood off. Just because Thranduil and Midhel had welcomed her back, didn't mean her return would be universally accepted.

Before going out in the open, Tauriel pulled Midhel aside.

"Midhel, much has changed since I left," she began, biting her lip.

Midhel smiled comfortingly. "Much has stayed the same, too. What are you afraid of?"

Tauriel sighed, embarrassed her emotions were so easily read. Woodelves were more expressive than the nobler elves of Rivendell, and she had grown used to hiding her true feelings. But still, Midhel knew her well, and no amount of lonely wandering could erase the bond they had, especially now that she was back among her people.

"What did people think of my banishment?" she asked quietly. "Do you think I will be welcomed back? How much did people even know? Did they know about how I defied Thranduil...did they know about Kíli?"

Midhel looked at her with sympathy. "Those who served with you under the Guard missed you, Tauriel. We knew you defied Thranduil. Many of us were there when it happened; Feren was, and Glándir and Orelon. I heard about it from them. We all heard the rumors of your affair with the dwarf..." Midhel grimaced. "To tell the truth, I did not believe them until my brother Orelon assured me that was the reason you clashed with Thranduil."

"Among other things," Tauriel said. "Kíli and the other dwarves were what spurred me into action, but Orelon of all people should know how I felt about Thranduil's policies."

"Of course," Midhel agreed. "Others were not so kind, I am afraid. Rumors flew. Nearly a year later, I still heard people whispering about you and that dwarf." She scowled. "Awful things, they were. I knew _that_ much wasn't true. Didn't he die, anyway? It's not as if you ran away with him into the night. This was a matter of war."

"Yes," Tauriel confirmed. "My whole life upended in a few days. It's all his fault." She spoke this with a tinge of bitterness, though she did not truly blame Kíli.

Midhel sighed. "You really did love him, didn't you?" she asked.

Tauriel nodded. In her pocket, her hand clenched around the promise stone. "He showed me that the outside world was not something to be feared and hated. He showed me how wide and strange Middle-earth truly was." She smiled bitterly. "He died before he could show me anything else."

"I do not understand it," Midhel told her softly, "but I am sorry for your loss, Tauriel."

"So Orelon, Úrphen, Glándir...they all feel the same as you?" she queried.

Midhel nodded. "We are all of a like mind. We missed you, Tauriel. They will all be glad to see you. Iesteth, too!" She grinned at the mention of her wife. "I am so sorry that you missed our wedding, but we did not know if you were ever coming back."

"I am sorry, too," Tauriel said. "I will be glad to see her again. And what of her parents?" Iesteth's parents, the healers Hithwen and Gwelonir, had raised Tauriel when she had first come to the king's halls after the death of her parents. Iesteth had been a young adult at the time, and she was much like an older sister to Tauriel.

"Oh, you know Hithwen," Midhel said affectionately. "She would forgive you anything. Gwelonir, too. They will both be overjoyed to see your return." She shrugged. "There are others, like Crabandir, who will be less thrilled to see you. But do not despair, Tauriel. You still have friends here, and you can regain the loyalty of anyone else."

"Loyalty..." Tauriel trailed off. "I am glad to see you are Captain of the Guard now, Midhel. I would not have picked anyone else as my successor."

Midhel blushed. "Thank you, Tauriel. I have tried to lead them as you would have."

Tauriel laughed. "No, I am sure you led them as _you_ would, which could very well be better than me. Will you accept me back in your ranks, after this is all over? I would be honored to fight alongside my friends once more."

"Of course," Midhel said, grasping her arm. "Would..." She hesitated. "Do you wish to be Captain again? After some time, I am sure Thranduil would reappoint you, if it is what you wished."

"Not at the sake of your command," Tauriel said, shaking her head. "You deserve the position, not me. I am a traitor, after all." She cracked a crooked grin.

"No, you're not," Midhel informed her firmly. "But truly, Tauriel—you were a much better leader than I. If you want the position back, I will give it to you. I much preferred second-in-command, to be totally honest."

Tauriel was surprised at this. "I don't know, Midhel. If you _want_ me to...maybe. But not for several years more. I must regain trust and loyalty not only in Thranduil's eyes, but in the eyes of our people."

"Of course." Thranduil and Feren had long since left the room, and Midhel glanced at the door. "I had better spread the word of Thranduil's orders," she said. "You should go find your old friends. They will be overjoyed to see you again."

Tauriel nodded. "Thank you, Midhel," she said gratefully. "You are a true friend."

* * *

She found Orelon first. He was reading a report with a deep frown, his dark brown hair falling in his face. When he saw her approaching him, he looked up briefly and said, "Hello, Tauriel." He read a few more lines before he froze, looking up slowly at her again with wide blue eyes.

"Tauriel?" he exclaimed, springing to his feet. His report fell to the ground, forgotten.

"Yes, it's me," she said, smiling.

Orelon laughed, grinning. "I'm so glad to see you!" he said. "But—weren't you...?"

"Banished?" she supplied. "Yes. Midhel can tell you the whole story, but the short of it is that Thranduil has welcomed me back home."

Orelon beamed. "It's so good to have you back!" he said. "I—where have you been all these years?"

"Can I tell you on the way?" she asked. "I want to see Úrphen and Glándir again. Do you know where they are?"

Orelon frowned thoughtfully. "I think Úrphen was talking with Feren last I saw them. Glándir should be training. I can take you to him."

Tauriel filled him on their way to the training rooms. She told him only the basics, not wishing to go too much into detail. Besides, the whole story would take far too long to tell.

Orelon shook his head when she was done, his expression grim. "There are dark times ahead," he said. "I hope we will all live through them."

Tauriel nodded in agreement. "It is good to be back home. If I am to die, I would like it to be in my home."

They found Glándir walking out of the training rooms. He stared at Tauriel in shock for a moment, then raced forward to greet her, his russet brown hair flying in his face.

"Tauriel!" he shouted. Other elves, standing around him, looked over curiously. Soon some ran up to greet her, cheering her name.

"Tauriel's back!"

"Wasn't she banished?"

"Shhh! Don't let her hear that!"

"I can't believe it! She's come home!"

"Thank the Valar, another captain! We'll need her, if the rumors of war are true..."

"It's been so long," Glándir told her, smiling. "I didn't know if you'd ever come back."

"I didn't, either," Tauriel admitted, a little overwhelmed by the attention she was receiving. "Yes, I've returned. King Thranduil has pardoned me and welcomed back home."

A murmur of voices began to discuss the news. Tauriel heard snippets of their conversations. Most seemed surprised but delighted to see her face again, though she heard a few concerned mutterings about "her and that dwarf". She ignored them. They weren't worth listening to.

"Tauriel, is there any news of beyond the forest?" someone called out to her.

Other voices chimed in, clamoring for news. "Have you heard from Legolas? What about the orcs? Has Dol Guldur really been taken by the Necromancer again? What's happening in Dale?"

"Calm down!" Tauriel exclaimed, taking a step back from the crowd. "One question at a time, please." She took a deep breath. Beside her, Orelon and Glándir looked just as eager for information.

"I'll tell you what I know," she said. "I've been in Rivendell for most of the time I was gone. Lord Elrond sent me to deliver a message to Lady Galadriel, and then I was caught up in the war in Rohan."

"War?" a quiet voice whispered.

"There's a war going on, haven't you noticed?" someone hissed back to them.

"I met Legolas in Rohan," she said. Glándir, who had been friends with Legolas, leaned forward. "He's fine. Fighting bravely, of course, but he's doing well. I was traveling through the forest, and I didn't run into any living orcs, but I did see signs of them." She shook her head. "It's bad. Even before the Battle of the Five Armies, there was only the one invasion of orcs."

Whispers spread among the crowd of onlookers at that point. Tauriel chose to ignore them, instead continuing, "I don't know anything about Dol Guldur except that Thranduil is leading a force there tomorrow to expel whatever evil has taken hold."

"That's what Midhel told us," Glándir said. "She came by not too long ago. She took Úrphen with her—said that Feren needed to talk to them."

"I don't know what's happening in Dale," she finished, "because I haven't been in Dale since right after the Battle of the Five Armies. When I saw Thranduil early this morning, he mentioned he'd been sending aid to Dale, but you all probably know that."

The crowd broke into excited chatter. Tauriel suddenly felt exhausted. She needed to rest before tomorrow's march. But first she wanted to see Úrphen, Iesteth, Hithwen, and Gwelonir.

"Orelon, Glándir," she said, "can you take me to find Úrphen? I want them to know I'm here."

"Of course." Glándir nodded. "They're my sibling, I can show you the way. They're in the war council room with Feren. You remember the way, right?"

"Yes," she said.

"Come with me, then," he said. Orelon waved farewell to the two of them, staying with the other elves to answer more questions.

"I hope we don't interrupt Feren," Tauriel said as she walked with Glándir. "He did always hate being disturbed when he's busy."

Glándir laughed shortly. "Yes," he agreed. "He hasn't changed. But Úrphen won't mind. Feren can be a bit boring to talk to."

Tauriel shook her head. "Not in a circumstance like this. Thranduil appointed them a captain, did you know? They're leading a company to the western border."

"Really?" Glándir said in surprise. "What an honor! They didn't mention it."

"I'm not sure if they knew," Tauriel said. "It's very recent news. Midhel, Feren, and I were up all night talking with Thranduil. I'm surprised his Majesty trusts me so much. I mean, I did warn him of the invasion from the west, but after defying him like I did..." She shook her head.

Glándir's expression grew solemn. "They'll be a good captain. They've worked long and hard for it. Midhel made them second-in-command after she was appointed Captain of the Guard, after all."

Tauriel was not surprised by this. Úrphen was a skilled warrior and a good leader. If something had ever happened to Midhel, they would have been her next choice as deputy.

Tauriel and Glándir arrived outside the war council room. Glándir opened the door a crack and peeked through. Tauriel peered inside over him.

Inside, Feren, Midhel, and two other elves who were only vaguely familiar to her examined several maps. Úrphen stood across the table from them, lost in thought.

Glándir opened the door a little bit more and stepped forward, obscuring Tauriel from view. "Excuse me," he said, nodding to Feren. "Could I speak to my sibling for a moment? There's someone here to see them."

Tauriel could barely see in the room with Glándir in her way, but she observed Midhel smiling, obviously knowing who the visitor was. Úrphen turned around. Much like their brother, they had russet brown hair and hazel eyes, though they were a few inches taller and had a noticeably wider jaw. After Feren nodded his approval, Úrphen walked over to the door.

"Who is it, Glándir?" they asked, raising one eyebrow.

Glándir only smiled and stepped aside. Úrphen stared at Tauriel in shock, a grin slowly spreading across their face.

"You're back!" they exclaimed.

Tauriel laughed. "Yes, I've returned."

Midhel appeared behind Úrphen. "I thought you might like a surprise, so I didn't tell you," she informed them.

They shook their head, bemused. "Well, it certainly was a surprise." They looked at Tauriel curiously. "Wait, so were _you_ the messenger Midhel and Feren mentioned?"

"Yes," she said. "I came from Rohan to the western border." She shook her head. "Good luck out there, when you go."

"Thank you," Úrphen said. They laughed. "I just can't believe you're back! It's been so long. After this is all over, we'll have to catch up." They looked at their brother. "All of us—me, you three, Orelon, the rest of the Guard...we'll have a wonderful time."

"Have you see Iesteth yet?" Midhel asked.

Tauriel shook her head. "No. I was going to see her and her parents after I saw Úrphen."

"Úrphen, Midhel," Feren called out.

"We'd better go," Úrphen said apologetically. "Goodbye, Tauriel. I'll talk to you later."

"Send Iesteth my love," Midhel said, smiling fondly at the thought of her wife. "And Hithwen and Gwelonir, too, of course." The two of them walked back into the war council room.

Tauriel looked at Glándir. "The three of them should be in the healers' wing, right?" she asked.

He nodded. "I should probably get back to the practice rooms," he said apologetically. "I need all the practice I need before tomorrow." Glándir patted her on the shoulder, before walking away.

"Goodbye," she called after him.

Tauriel turned and began to make her way to the healers' wing. As she walked about in the halls of her home unhooded, she noticed uncomfortably that people stared at her and whispered as she passed. Some were shocked, some were intrigued, some were judgemental. She heard several mentions of "that dwarf", and she struggled to push away anger. Kíli was not some ugly dwarf like they supposed. Even after all these years, she still loved him.

She clenched her fist around the promise stone, trying to think of him instead of the rumors that had spread in her absence. She knew her friends, the people who mattered to her, would believe her story when she explained it to them, but the contempt of others still stung. Once she was comfortable in the Greenwood again, she would set the rumors straight, but for now she would settle for ignoring them.

Tauriel smiled, her heart warming as she thought of her friends. It had been so _good_ to see them all again. Orelon, just as earnest and hopeful as ever, had been a delight. She had missed Glándir, witty and genuine, and his sibling Úrphen with their thoughtful way of saying things and charisma. Now she was going to see her adoptive family, one of which was now married to one of her closest friends.

Tauriel arrived in the healers' wing. She hung in the doorway for a few moments, watching the healers quietly go about their business, before taking a deep breath and walking inside.

The first elf she ran into was not Iesteth or Gwelonir or Hithwen, but instead the healer Gailien. Tauriel had grown up flitting in between the training rooms and the healers' wing, and Gailien, who was about Iesteth and Midhel's age, had never really liked her. The two of them did not get along, and Tauriel had to admit to herself that Gailien was not someone she had missed while she was wandering.

Gailien stared at her in shock for a few seconds, then forced a smile onto her lips. "Why, Tauriel, you've returned to the forest!"

Tauriel nodded, smiling just as fraudulently as she was. "Yes. It's been such a long time." She glanced around. "Have you seen Iesteth or Hithwen around...?"

"Oh, they should be just over that way," Gailien said, pointing to the left. Tauriel turned to go, but Gailien added, "You know, I didn't ever think you'd come back, after that whole incident with that frightful dwarf."

Tauriel feigned laughter. "Oh, no. I missed my home. Nothing could keep me away forever."

"Not even the king's decree of your banishment?" Gailien asked slyly.

"Thranduil and I have worked things out," Tauriel said, her smile frozen on her teeth. "Now, it was nice talking to you, Gailien, but I simply must see my family again. It's been such a long time, surely you understand?"

"Of course," Gailien agreed quickly. "Well... I'll see you around, then, I suppose."

Tauriel rolled her eyes as soon as she was out of her sight. Gailien sure hadn't changed; she was just as insufferable as ever.

She was interrupted from her thoughts by a shout of "Tauriel!" Across the room, Iesteth had caught sight of her. The beautiful elf maiden raced toward her, her green eyes alight. Ever an affectionate person, Iesteth caught her in an embrace, her golden-brown hair flying about in her haste.

Tauriel hugged her adoptive sister tightly, tears budding up in her eyes. "Iesteth, it's been so long," she murmured. "I missed you so much!"

"My parents will be so happy to know you've returned!" Iesteth exclaimed, letting go of her. She turned and called out, "Mother! Father! Come quickly!"

As Hithwen and Gwelonir walked inside, Tauriel laughed as she caught sight of the ring hanging on a chain around Iesteth's neck. "Midhel said you two had been married," she said, pointing to it. "Now I see it's true."

Iesteth blushed. "Yes," she agreed. "It was just a few years after you left. I finally asked her. The ceremony was beautiful—I wish you could have been there!"

"Well, now you can celebrate your marriage again with me," Tauriel pointed out. "It's like you get two weddings instead of just one!"

Iesteth laughed. Just at that moment, Hithwen and Gwelonir caught up to them.

"Tauriel, you've come back home!" Gwelonir said. Tears budded in his eyes; he was an emotional person.

Hithwen, though generally less sentimental than her husband, was also a little misty-eyed. "We've missed you so much," she said, clasping her hands together.

Tauriel smiled, her heart full of love for these wonderful people she called her family. "I've missed you too. I'm so sorry I had to go, but I just couldn't return home, even aside from the king's decree." She shook her head. "I needed to see the world for myself. And after everything that happened..." She sighed. "I needed to be alone. I've seen so much. I've been so many places in the west, I've seen so much of the world, and I know it is worth fighting for. I know I made the right decision, even if it was a painful one."

"Tauriel, we will always love you," Iesteth told her, gently squeezing her hand.

"You're home now," Gwelonir said, "and that's what matters. Leave the past behind you just for today, and be happy with us."

Tauriel nodded. "I will," she said. "But only for today."

"Why?" Hithwen asked, furrowing her brows. "Now that you're home, isn't everything right?"

She shook her head. "No," she said. "There's a war coming. Tomorrow, King Thranduil is marching on Dol Guldur. Midhel and I are accompanying him."

Iesteth's eyes widened. "I'd heard the rumors," she whispered, "but I wasn't sure they were true..."

"War?" Hithwen said. "I thought I'd seen the last of it, after the Battle of the Five Armies..."

"We will all stick together," Gwelonir said firmly. "Thranduil will need healers on the frontlines. I'll volunteer." He looked at his wife and daughter. "Will you come with me?"

They both nodded. Tauriel smiled. "Thank you," she said.

"Have you caught up with everyone?" Iesteth asked.

"There's only been so much time," Tauriel said, "but I have seen Glándir and Úrphen and Orelon—and Midhel, of course. It was she who found me in the forest and brought me to Thranduil. It's a long story."

"Come, sit down," Gwelonir said, gesturing to a table with several chairs. "Tell us everything."


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been so long, but here's an update!
> 
> I did some research into this battle, and I found differing results. What I ended up writing was an attack by Thranduil on Dol Guldur. Galadriel and Celeborn threw down the walls of the fortress, but that was weeks after this battle. I also heard they cleansed the place of orcs, but the LOTR wiki says it was Thranduil who did the fighting there, so I went with that because it worked better for my story. So maybe this isn't 100% canon accurate but I'm going with movie canon a lot of the time here, so I'm taking artistic liberties. The movies didn't show anything in Mirkwood, so I can make up whatever I want, though I took details when I could from Tolkien's writings.  
> The Nazgul Khamûl was the only one named by Tolkien himself, and I wanted a Nazgul here leading the orcs, so used that name. Like I said, I'm taking some liberties.

 

When the morning broke, the warriors left the halls of the Woodland King. Thranduil led three companies to Dol Guldur. One was his personal command; the other two were led by Midhel and Úrphen. Feren and another commander led two companies to the western border, and a third had been sent east.

Tauriel was under Midhel's command. Orelon marched alongside her, and Glándir marched with his sibling, Úrphen. They all were headed with Thranduil to Dol Guldur.

The march was long, for Dol Guldur was in the south of the forest, and far from Thranduil's halls in the northeast. Tauriel was not weary, but the time dragged by slowly, and she was anxious for the battle to come. This, much like the Battle of Helm's Deep, would be a battle for the ages. She dreaded to think of what orcs lived in the ruins of the once-great fortress, and what was there to lead them.

That evening, Thranduil stopped his companies only a league from Dol Guldur.

"We will strike tomorrow morning," he informed his captains. "After the sun has risen. There is no use in giving our enemy the power of the night."

Tauriel agreed. Had the Battle of Helm's Deep been fought in daylight, perhaps it would have ended better, and sooner.

Úrphen and Midhel spread the word of Thranduil's plan along to their companies. Tauriel, Glándir, and Orelon sat by a small fire as the captains attended to their duties.

For a while, Tauriel was content to simply be with her friends. They sat in companionable silence, until it was eventually broken upon Úrphen's arrival.

"Where's Midhel?" Orelon asked them.

They shrugged, sitting down next to Glándir. "I don't know. I assume she's still out talking to her warriors."

"You're done, then?" Glándir said.

Úrphen nodded. "I suppose. Being a captain is stressful work, you know." They ran a hand through their hair. "I needed a break with my friends."

"Tell me about it," Tauriel said with a smile.

They all laughed. Tauriel's heart warmed. She had missed this so very much.

"Do you miss being a captain?" Orelon asked her.

Tauriel sighed. "I suppose I do. But mostly I missed my companions. I wish Legolas were here, though I am glad to be among all of you again." For all Legolas had not been an official member of the Guard, his friendship with her and with Glándir had motivated him to accompany them on many outings into the forest.

"Yes, how is Legolas?" Midhel asked. She arrived suddenly, startling all of them as she sat down beside her brother Orelon. "You said you met him in Rohan."

"And in Rivendell, before that," Tauriel agreed. "He is fine. He's become rather good friends with his traveling companions."

"That's good," Úrphen said. "Who are they? Anyone we might have heard of?"

"Well—" Tauriel hesitated. "Aragorn of the Dúnedain is one."

"Ah, yes, I've heard Thranduil mention him once or twice," Midhel said.

"And Gimli, a dwarf of Erebor," she added. "You might remember his father—he was part of the Company of Thorin Oakenshield. Glóin."

"That sounds vaguely familiar," Úrphen agreed.

"Legolas, friends with a dwarf?" Glándir said, raising an eyebrow.

"You'd be surprised," Tauriel said. She certainly had been.

"I thought that was more your area, Tauriel," Orelon teased.

Tauriel only shook her head. Well, it was to be expected they would tease her about Kíli. "I guess he's taking an arrow out of my quiver, then," she replied.

"Hopefully one with different fletching," she heard Úrphen mutter. What was _that_ supposed to mean? That they ought not to be in love, as she was with Kíli? Well, Tauriel knew that to be true after all Legolas had said to her, but it was still rather rude. She let it pass. She knew her friends didn't mean anything by it, and they were nothing like Losseth had been.

An hour or so later, after Tauriel had given a scattered recounting of her journeys over the past sixty years, Midhel suggested that the two of them to go visit their family in the healers' tents.

"I guess you are part of my family now," Tauriel pondered as they walked away from the tent. "You're what—my sister-in-law?"

"Only if you want me to be," Midhel said, smiling.

"Of course I do!" she exclaimed. "You're one of my closest friends, and I'm delighted to call you family."

They arrived at the healer's tents. Gwelonir and Hithwen welcomed them both warmly. Iesteth greeted her wife gladly, kissing her, before turning to embrace her foster sister. Tauriel smiled.

"Are you ready for tomorrow?" Hithwen asked the two of them. Her eyes shone with worry. "I'm always so afraid you'll be hurt whenever you go off to fight."

"We'll be fine," Midhel said with a laugh. "We're experienced warriors."

"Besides," Tauriel added, "if we _do_ get hurt, we've got you three to fix us up."

"Let's pray it doesn't come to that," Iesteth murmured.

"We'll all be safe," Gwelonir assured them.

"I hope," Tauriel murmured under her breath. She wasn't so sure.

* * *

 

Tauriel and Midhel spent the rest of the night in the healer's tent with their family. The next morning, they rejoined their warrior friends. Midhel and Úrphen, the captains, left to receive orders from Thranduil. Tauriel, Orelon, and Glándir remained together for a little longer before separating when Thranduil ordered his troops to march.

When they arrived at Dol Guldur, Tauriel caught her breath at the sight that lay before them. Hundreds of orcs—perhaps more than a thousand—were spread across the forest, the ground, the bridge to the main fortress, and the fortress itself. Sixty years ago, this fortress had been cleansed by the White Council, but Sauron had retaken it within the past few years.

Crouching upon a tower near the bridge was a great, hideous black beast. Its wings were folded, its mouth slightly open and dripping horrible black saliva. Upon its back was a figure wreathed in black clothes. Tauriel did not know what it was, but the evil emanating from it and its steed made fear rise in her heart.

Thranduil strode forward on his magnificent elk, a different one from the one that had perished in the Battle of the Five Armies. In a booming voice, he cried out to the mass of orcs and their ominous leader, "I am Thranduil, king of this forest. Depart, forces of evil, or be destroyed!"

The great beast on the tower rose up to its full height. The figure stood, and in a thin whisper that somehow carried across the battlefield and into the ears of the watching elves, hissed out, "I am Khamûl of the Nine. I serve the One: Lord Sauron. We will raze this land to the ground and spread your bones across the ashes of the forest."

Beside Tauriel, Orelon gasped. "He's a—he's a Nazgul!"

Tauriel's eyes widened. A pit of unease opened up in her stomach. A Nazgul? She had heard of them, of course, but she had never thought she would ever face one in battle.

Though she stood behind him, Tauriel could imagine Thranduil's eyes flashing in anger as he drew his sword. "Surrender now, Khamûl, or else you will never leave this forest alive!"

"He's already dead, isn't he?" Tauriel hissed to Orelon.

He shrugged. "That's debatable. Let's hope for the king's sake he isn't."

"Attack!" Khamûl ordered, and the orcs screamed and rushed forward. Thranduil surged forward into battle, and from then on, all was chaos.

Thranduil's company ran forward. The king headed straight for Khamûl, his warriors behind him. They attacked the orcs on the bridge, aiming to overtake the fortress.

Úrphen, acting on prior instructions from Thranduil, swept his company to the left, rushing into the ravine below the bridge and attacking the orcs there. Midhel followed the same plan, only rushing into the right side of the ravine.

"If you can make your way up to the fortress, do it!" she cried, leaping into battle. She quickly slew two orcs, calling out further orders as she did so. "The king needs help up there, but the ravine is important, too!"

Tauriel saw Orelon rush across the ravine, killing every orc in sight, and then fling himself on the wall and begin to climb. Tauriel herself kept Midhel in her line of sight, fighting close to her friend and sister-in-law. She slaughtered orcs left and right. They were not highly trained or very large. The forces of Sauron had always relied on overwhelming numbers instead of any kind of skill.

As it was, Tauriel still saw her companions falling around her. It wrenched her heart to see an elf die, but there were so _many_ orcs.

Tauriel fought for hours, sustaining several minor or forgettable injuries. Occasionally, she would find some respite for a moment or two until another orc confronted her and she was forced back into the fray.

She tried to keep an eye on Midhel as much as she could. She knew the captain had her own battles well in hand, but Tauriel wanted to make sure her friend had backup should she need it.

And, eventually, she did.

It happened quickly. Tauriel barely saw it out of the corner of her eye, busy as she was with her own enemies. Midhel fought two orcs at once: huge things, apparently with more skill than the rest. She was having more difficulty with them than usual, but Tauriel wasn't worried. Midhel could take care of it.

Until suddenly, there were _three_ orcs.

A third beast rushed at Midhel. She was so preoccupied with her battle that she didn't notice. Tauriel fought another orc, Midhel barely in her line of sight, but then she saw it happen: the third orc rushed forward and stabbed Midhel with its huge dagger.

Midhel screamed, and in her pain, she flung her arms forward, slicing open the bellies of the orcs in front of her with her knives. They ran away, howling. The third orc moved to finish her off, but Midhel spun around and quickly dispatched him. Then she fell to the ground, the knife still sticking out of her back.

Horrified, Tauriel kicked her opponent out of her way and raced over to Midhel's side, ignoring the chaos around her.

She lifted Midhel's limp body in her arms and began to run. The healers' tents were at the edge of the battlefield, up at the top of the ravine. It would be hard to carry her all that way, but Tauriel had no choice if she wished to save Midhel's life.

As she raced through the fighting around her, dodging orcs and trying to keep Midhel from falling out of her arms, she asked, "Midhel, can you hear me? How do you feel?"

Midhel groaned, moving her head. Her eyes were closed, but she managed to grunt out, "Hurts. Got me'n the back."

"I'm taking you to the healers," Tauriel told her, dodging an orc's swing at her. "I'll get you to Iesteth. She'll know what to do." Tauriel didn't know if she ought to try and take the knife out of Midhel's back, where it was still embedded, or if that would only make things worse. She might have been raised by Hithwen and Gwelonir, but she was no healer herself. She only knew a little more than the basics.

Somehow, with the help of the elves who saw her struggle keeping orcs off her back, Tauriel made it to the healers' camp. Healers quickly accosted her, and tried to take Midhel from her, but Tauriel wouldn't let them. She was looking for three healers in particular.

At last, she found their tent. It was close to the fighting—closer than usual. At another time, Tauriel would have worried about that, but now, all she was focused on was Midhel.

She burst into the tent, placing Midhel's limp, injured form on the ground as gently as she could. Her hands shook.

"Iesteth!" she cried out, staring at Midhel's shallowly breathing chest. "Help—it's Midhel!"

There was no response. Tauriel knew this was their tent; she had slept in it the night before. She looked up, confused. It was not like Iesteth to ignore the ones who needed her help, especially when the injured person was her wife.

Iesteth and Hithwen were sobbing in the corner of the tent, near the other entrance. The two elf women were crouched down over—something.

"Iesteth!" Tauriel begged. "Please! She needs your help!"

The sobbing continued. Iesteth looked up at Tauriel, her cheeks wet with tears. She didn't seem to understand what was going on.

As Iesteth moved, Tauriel realized suddenly what was wrong. Hithwen held something close to her chest. A head, attached to a limp body.

"Tauriel..." Iesteth whispered.

With a sense of horrible dread, Tauriel saw what had happened. That head did not belong to some unfortunate patient.

In her shaking arms, Hithwen cradled the lifeless, broken body of her husband, Gwelonir.


	23. Chapter 23

Tauriel cried out and rushed forward. "Gwelonir!" she sobbed.

Hithwen looked up, her eyes blank with grief. Iesteth cried softly, her eyes red-rimmed with tears.

"What—?" Tauriel broke off, a sob overcoming her. Gwelonir was dead? No. No, he couldn't be! He had just wished her good night and good luck the night before... But here he was, his body broken and lifeless. Dead.

"What happened?" she asked, her voice breaking.

"We were...out on the edge of the battle," Iesteth whispered. "Carrying an injured warrior to safety. Then, an orc—an orc appeared out of nowhere, and Father, he—" She sobbed. "The orc got him. Luckily, another warrior came along, but...it was too late."

Tears streaming down her face, Tauriel fell to her knees, all thoughts of the raging battle gone from her mind. Gwelonir was dead. The world crashed down upon her, and she felt the awful weight of her loss crushing her. She had not felt this much pain since—since Kíli's death.

Gwelonir stared up at her, his eyes glassy in death. For a brief, painful moment, Tauriel's mind flashed back to sixty years ago, as she stared helplessly into Kíli's eyes as the life was crushed out of him by Bolg.

Something inside her hardened. This battle was not over. She suddenly remembered Midhel, bleeding at her feet. Gwelonir and Kíli may be dead, but she could still save Midhel.

"Iesteth, Hithwen—" she began. For the first time, Iesteth's eyes flicked to the crumpled body at Tauriel's feet. She gasped.

"Midhel!" she cried. She abandoned her parents and rushed to her wife.

"She's not dead," Tauriel said, "but she needs your help."

Hithwen's eyes were still blank in shock. Slowly, her gaze drifted from Gwelonir to Tauriel, before finally settling on Midhel. She opened her mouth and moved to join Iesteth.

Tauriel stepped aside as the two healers began their frantic, life-saving work. Her heart pounded in her chest as she watched them feverishly bandage Midhel and apply salves to her still-bleeding wound.

After a few minutes, Iesteth glanced up at Tauriel. "Go," she urged, even as she passed more bandages to Hithwen. "You cannot help here, Tauriel, and the battle rages on. Midhel will not be able to rejoin the fight. You must tell Thranduil—he will need a new captain."

Tauriel hesitated. "Will she be alright?" she asked.

" _Go,_ " Iesteth said forcefully. Tears filled her eyes, and she did not answer Tauriel's question.

Her heart in her throat, Tauriel nodded. Iesteth was right. She would be far more useful out on the battlefield. She left the tent and raced back into the fray, searching for Thranduil's elk.

All around her, flames appeared. Someone—or some _thing_ —had set the forest ablaze. Trees burned, branches crackled. Heat seared Tauriel's face, but she paid it no mind.

At last, amid the burning trees, Tauriel caught sight of King Thranduil aside his giant elk. She fought her way toward him, killing orcs mercilessly and dodging fallen branches.

"Thranduil!" she cried out, not bothering with titles.

He spun his elk around, decapitating an orc as he did so. Even in the midst of battle, he looked every inch the king he was. His long blond hair was stained with soot and blood, his armor was torn, and his noble steed trembled, bleeding from many wounds. Yet the glow of battle shone in his blue eyes, causing Tauriel to shiver. _This_ was the Thranduil of old she served: strong, wise, fierce, and regal.

"Tauriel!" he said.

"My lord, Midhel has been gravely injured," she told him. An orc rushed toward her. Only half-turning, she drew her bow and shot it. "Her company goes unled!"

Thranduil frowned. "Is she being treated?"

"Yes," Tauriel confirmed. Another orc swarmed towards them. This time, it was Thranduil who dispatched it.

"Tauriel, I appoint you Captain of the Guard and captain of that company," Thranduil ordered, "until Midhel recovers or else dies, under which circumstance you shall assume the title fully."

Tauriel gasped, shocked he would reinstate her after all she had done, but she did not argue. The old fire reignited inside her, and she gripped her weapons with a new purpose. _This_ was what she was meant for. This was her calling, her duty, her passion.

"Yes, my lord," she said, bowing deeply to Thranduil. What remained of her resentment and anger toward her king dissipated at long last. He _had_ changed, and so had she. She lived to serve him and to protect her home, and she felt again the strength of the bond between her and her king. "Thank you."

One glance into Thranduil's blue eyes filled her with a fervent drive. He smiled down at her briefly, then took a deep breath.

"Khamûl has escaped me," he said. "He hides in the towers of Dol Guldur. We must storm the fortress and drive him out of the forest."

Tauriel nodded. "Yes, my king."

Thranduil shook his elk's reins. "Go, Tauriel!" he ordered. The elk raced away across the bridge, running over orcs in its wake. A few unfortunate elves flattened themselves to the walls of the bridge to avoid being trampled.

Tauriel raced back into the ravine. "To me!" she cried out. "Midhel is injured, and I am captain now! To me, elves of the Greenwood, to me! Over the walls!"

Though a few elves looked at her in confusion, they sensed that she meant business and obeyed her commands. The elves abandoned their battles and began to swarm the walls of Dol Guldur.

Tauriel felt a rush of elation. She had missed being in charge. Though she yearned for Midhel's recovery, she was glad to be captain again.

Tauriel breached the wall first. She waded in orc blood and danced over dead bodies, leaving death in her path. She was full of the fires of battle. Nothing could stop her.

She saw Thranduil, no longer atop his elk, battling Khamûl on the highest tower of Dol Guldur. The Nazgul's hideous beast lay slain in the ravine, crushing elves and orcs alike beneath its carcass.

Tauriel fought for what felt like an age, totally focused on the battle. She saw her friends fighting alongside her. Orelon grappled with an orc twice his size, until she shot it through the throat. He returned the favor only a few minutes later, knifing a sneaky orc in the back as she faced its friend.

Úrphen mirrored her orders, directing their company over the opposite wall. Dol Guldur was so packed with elves and orcs that it was hard to move without killing someone. Tauriel found that this made slaying orcs easier, though she had to be careful not to be killed herself.

As it was, the orcs were so numerous that she felt they would never fail. She pressed forward grimly, but for every orc she killed, two more appeared in its place.

Tauriel found herself backed into a wall. Orcs surrounded her on all sides. She thought she saw Glándir fighting his way to her aid, but he was too far away. She killed and killed, but orcs broke through her guard, landing blows on her arms and shoulders. Still, she fought on, but her wounds bled and a creeping despair slowly overcame her.

An orc cut her bow in two. Tauriel cried out in despair. As she did so, another orc raised its jagged blade and swung. She only barely ducked in time, fumbling with her last remaining knife. All the others had been lost in the fray.

A third orc sliced at her arm, while the first raised its spear and the second prepared to strike her again. Tauriel was caught between the three of them. Her mind raced. No matter what she did, she would be hurt, perhaps even killed. She was stuck.

Before anyone could strike, a shuddering, high-pitched cry shook the fortress. The orcs, mid-swing, faltered. Everyone turned to look as Khamûl fell from the tower.

Tauriel gasped. Thranduil stood at the edge of the tower, the light of the burning forest illuminating his fury. Below, there was a thud as Khamûl hit the ground.

Somewhere, an elf let out a ragged cheer. The orcs, suddenly leaderless, froze. Tauriel slipped away from her three captors and quickly dispatched them as they stared in shock at the body of their fallen leader.

Orcs fell around her, the elves finally turning the tide. Without orders, the orc army fell apart. As many orcs as could escape the blades of the elves rushed away, fleeing from their enemies at last.

Tauriel chased orcs for hours, until at last there were only a few stragglers left. Dol Guldur had been cleansed at last. A storm blew in, and the rain quenched the fires in the forest. Tauriel felt much like the smoldering trees: relieved, injured, and exhausted.

Thranduil ordered his warriors to be healed, and then for his captains to report to him. Tauriel was not seriously injured, but she was dizzy and bleeding from several minor wounds. She trudged back to the campsite, where healers buzzed with activity, going about their work. Several offered to take her in, but she refused, instead heading to Hithwen's tent.

When she peered in, she saw that Gwelonir's body had been wrapped in a sheet. A pang of sorrow shook her body, and she felt tears bud fresh in her eyes. She forced her grief aside. There would be time for mourning later.

When she caught sight of Midhel's still form, Tauriel's heart nearly broke. "No!" she cried out, her loss indescribable. "Midhel!" She had done all she could, and _still_ her friend lay lifeless before her...

"Tauriel," Iesteth said. She rose and embraced her, hugging her tightly. Tauriel sobbed into her foster sister's shoulder.

"Iesteth," she whispered, taking strength from her.

"Tauriel, what's wrong?" Iesteth asked. She sounded exhausted, and Tauriel did not blame her. To lose one's wife and father in the same day... She could scarcely imagine.

"Midhel," Tauriel said. "She's..."

"Oh," Iesteth said. To Tauriel's surprise, she laughed softly. "Tauriel, it's alright. She looks bad, but she's just sleeping. We'll have to watch her, but she's going to be okay."

"I...what?" Tauriel said, her heart lifting. Midhel was alive? "She's not dead?"

"She's still with us," Iesteth confirmed. She let go of her foster sister and gave her a wobbly smile. "And you are, too. Come—let me and Mother tend your wounds."

When Tauriel was patched up, she slowly got to her feet. Though every bone in her body ached, she still had to report to Thranduil.

"I can scarcely believe you're a captain again," Hithwen said as Tauriel prepared to go. "I would have thought you'd never get near such a position again."

"The king and I have talked out our differences," Tauriel explained. "I was surprised, too...but there is no denying that I am a capable leader." She smiled.

"Don't move too quickly," Iesteth warned her, "and try not to offend the king again, now that you're back in his good graces."

Tauriel laughed. "I have not changed all _that_ much, Iesteth."

Iesteth raised an eyebrow. "I know. That's what worries me."

Thranduil waited for her by where the bridge met the mainland. Úrphen was already there, finishing their report.

"My lord," Tauriel greeted Thranduil. She nodded to Úrphen. They nodded back.

"Tauriel," Thranduil said. "I am glad to see you are well."

"As well as I can be, your majesty," she said.

"There is only so much to discuss, as I told Úrphen," Thranduil said. "My troops fought bravely today. I will congratulate them myself this evening, but it will not hurt for their captains to show their appreciation as well. I am proud of you both." He gave them each a rare smile.

"Thank you, my lord," Úrphen murmured. Tauriel only nodded, warmth spreading through her chest.

"There is still much work to be done here," Thranduil continued. He indicated to the mess of blood and corpses that marred the once-beautiful landscape. "The rain has quenched the fire and washed some of the blood away, but we must still deal with what is left. Tauriel, tomorrow morning, have your remaining force clear this place of orc bodies. We will burn them on the other side of the fortress, where the fire has already ravished the forest. Úrphen, your force will gather the bodies of our comrades for proper burial."

Tauriel nodded. Cleaning up was her least favorite part of a battle. She hated dealing with the stench of orc corpses, but she did not know if she could bear seeing the faces of her dead friends. Úrphen's job was also unpleasant.

"My lord, that still leaves your own company," Úrphen pointed out.

"They will aid you," Thranduil said.

Tauriel frowned. "But, my lord—" She stopped, aware that Thranduil's gaze had turned cold.

"What is it, Tauriel?" he asked. "Speak carefully. I have forgiven you, but I have not forgotten the things you spoke to me before."

Tauriel nodded. "Yes, my lord. With all due respect, this battle may be won, but the greater war is not yet over." She thought of Legolas, fighting along the dwindling forces of the Rohirrim and the Galadhrim. "Dale, Gondor, and Lothlórien will doubtless still face assaults, and though we have cleansed the heart of the evil, there are doubtless still orcs in this forest."

Thranduil's expression was impassive as she continued. "Your majesty, you have three companies here, still battle-worthy. After we dispose of this mess, could we not continue onward? There are other kingdoms who could use our forces in this war."

For a few tense moments, Thranduil only stared at her, his eyes narrowed and calculating. Úrphen looked at her with wide eyes, doubtless frightened on her behalf.

"Tauriel," Thranduil said at last, "I am glad you proposed this idea. Indeed, we are not the only stronghold the orcs have attacked. Khamûl is a Nazgul. Though I searched for his remains in the forest, I found nothing but a burned and tattered robe. He is still alive, no doubt crawling back to Sauron before the final confrontation. You are right: the Battle Under Trees is over, but the war is not. Yes, I will send aid to the other free peoples of Middle-earth. But first, we must cleanse this place."

"Yes, my lord," Tauriel agreed, relieved. "Of course."

"This day marks a glorious victory," Thranduil proclaimed. "There is still more fighting before we can claim victory in this war, but the tide is turning against the forces of evil. A new year of the elves is rising, and we will rise with it!" He smiled, and Tauriel smiled back at him. Beside her, Úrphen nodded fiercely.

"Now go," Thranduil said, "and spread word of our plans to your troops." He paused, then added, "I am proud of you both. Úrphen, you have proved yourself a worthy captain, and Tauriel...you have shown your loyalty once again."

Tauriel bowed to him. "I am glad to serve you once more."


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only one more chapter left! Thank you to everyone who has read so far. And I'd really love it if this fic could break 100 comments sometime....*hint hint*

The war was won. Sauron was vanquished, and peace reigned throughout Middle-earth. The walls of Dol Guldur had been thrown down by Lady Galadriel, and the forest was cleansed. Tauriel was shocked by the changes around her. The forest she loved so dearly became even more beautiful and wondrous than before, truly becoming the Greenwood instead of Mirkwood, as outsiders called it.

Elves stepped lighter now, and the forest was no longer dark and treacherous. The spiders and orcs and other foul creatures she had fought against so bitterly her entire life were gone. Tauriel was astonished by these changes. Being so young, barely seven hundred, she had never seen the forest in its uncorrupted glory. Her whole life she had lamented against the common name "Mirkwood", but now that the curse of Sauron was lifted, she found that compared to the glory of this new forest, the old truly had been a place of darkness.

The wounds of battle and centuries of evil had not healed entirely. The people of the forest were changed, but still felt the repercussions of such a long curse. Tauriel had been raised in this forest, but the light of this new wood made it seem a different place entirely. She stepped along familiar paths as if she had never walked there before. Even the stars shone brighter, and she wished Kíli could have wandered the paths of this new Greenwood with her.

The forest was not the only thing that had begun to heal. Midhel's injury, though severe, healed quickly. Within a month, she was back up on her feet, though not quite healed enough to rejoin the Guard. For the time being, Tauriel was welcomed back in her old position as Captain, though there was much less to worry about, now that the forest was restored.

The elves of the Woodland Realm quickly accepted her return, and only the occasional rumors were spread about her absence. Though to Tauriel, her wanderings had seemed to consume ages, the elves of her home had felt the years pass by much more quickly, as little had changed for them.

They buried Gwelonir in the depths of the forest, returning his body to the land that had supported and nurtured him for so long. Tauriel missed her foster father very dearly, and hoped that his spirit rested in the Halls of Mandos. If anyone deserved peace, Gwelonir did.

"Are you ready to go?" Midhel asked her.

Tauriel sighed. "Yes, I suppose," she said. It was the beginning of spring. She, Úrphen, and their warriors were to be escorting Thranduil, traveling south to the Mountains of Mirkwood to meet with Galadriel and Celeborn. The fate of the forest in the coming Age was to be decided there.

"I wish I could come," Midhel said ruefully. She was still too weak to travel so far. "You and Úrphen are captains, so of course you're going, but so are Orelon and Glándir. I'll be all alone here!"

"Iesteth and Hithwen are staying, they'll keep you company," Tauriel pointed out.

"I know, and I'm grateful for it, but I wish I could meet Lady Galadriel." Midhel sighed.

"She's very wise," Tauriel said. "I met her while I was...gone. She's everything the stories say, and more."

Midhel's eyes widened. "You never mentioned that!"

"I've not even been back a month, Midhel!" Tauriel exclaimed. "That's not nearly enough time to catch up over sixty years of travels!"

"Well, I knew you'd met Lord Elrond," Midhel said. "You lived in Rivendell for so long, of course you did. And I knew you'd gone to Lothlórien, but not that you'd met Galadriel!"

"I'll have to tell the story when I get back," Tauriel said.

Midhel nodded. "I've got a few stories to tell you, too," she said. "Iesteth and I had quite the honeymoon! And there was that time Glándir and Orelon got drunk and fell in the fountain—Úrphen and I had to pull them out!"

Tauriel laughed. "I'm excited to hear it all," she said.

Midhel's eyes sparkled, but after a few moments, she sighed and looked down. "I wish I wasn't so injured," she said softly. "I'm tired, Tauriel. My body hurts. I'm healing, but I don't want to hurt like this anymore."

"You'll be back to normal in no time," Tauriel assured her.

"Yes..." Midhel sighed again. "But that's not what I meant, Tauriel. I don't want to fight anymore. There's peace in these lands. The evil is defeated, and we don't need as many warriors now."

"Midhel..." Tauriel stared at her, full of sympathy.

"I've been thinking about this," she said firmly, "and I've made up my mind. Even when my body heals all the way, I'll carry the damage inside. I almost died, Tauriel. I'm tired of fighting, especially when there's nothing to fight anymore. I'm quitting the Guard."

"But Midhel—" Tauriel broke off. She bowed her head. "I'll miss you."

"It's not like I'm leaving the forest," Midhel said, smiling a little. "I'll still be here. I'm still your family. I'm not leaving anywhere."

"I know, but it'll be—different," Tauriel said. "I'll miss fighting alongside you. There are still dangers out there."

"Yes, who knows when the next troupe of dwarves will trespass?" Midhel joked.

Tauriel raised an eyebrow. "Very funny, Midhel." She paused, then asked, "Does this mean that I'm staying Captain of the Guard?"

"If Thranduil agrees," Midhel said. "I have no opposition to it—you'd be my first choice as successor." She smiled. "This is funny—I succeeded you, and now you're succeeding me!"

Tauriel laughed. "It is! A hundred years ago, I would never have imagined it!"

"A hundred years ago, a lot of things were different," Midhel said. Her gaze turned distant as she remembered. "Those were good days."

"But you and Iesteth weren't married then," Tauriel pointed out, "and for all the heartbreak I've had...I think the next hundred years will be good days, too."

Midhel smiled and clapped Tauriel on the shoulder. "Here's to the next hundred years."

Tauriel pulled her into an embrace, echoing her words: "Here's to the next hundred years..."

* * *

The Mountains of Mirkwood were small compared to some of the other mountains Tauriel had seen in her time, but they were full of life. Trees and flowers and other green things surrounded her and the others as they approached the meeting place, and she breathed in the crisp mountain air appreciatively.

Thranduil wore his finest kingly robes and a crown of leaves. Tauriel and Úrphen stood side by side behind as his two most trusted captains.

Across the clearing from him were the elves of Lothlórien. Galadriel was as serene and beautiful as ever, and her husband Celeborn matched her glory. Behind them stood their own captains: Rúmil and Orophin.

Tauriel smiled to them, and they each nodded back. She would speak with them later, after the meeting had finished. Seeing them side by side, she felt a sharp pang of grief. Haldir ought to be there.

"Thranduil," Galadriel greeted him.

Thranduil bowed. "Lady Galadriel. Lord Celeborn. I am honored to speak with you."

His voice was, for the most part, sincere. Tauriel vividly remembered him complaining about the Noldo lady several times in the past, mostly based on principles passed down from his father and from his own isolationist beliefs. But for now, he seemed to have put his dislike behind him in favor of appreciation and respect. Galadriel was a high noble elf, and besides that, she was incredibly powerful and had been instrumental in the war.

"We are as well," Celeborn said.

Tauriel watched as they exchanged further pleasantries and extolled each others' great deeds in the war. Tauriel grew bored: though hearing these stories was interesting, they would be far more interesting if they did not have political connotations. Relations between Lothlórien and the Woodland Realm had always been a bit strained (or else nonexistent), and though they came together for great events such as the War of the Ring, they still didn't quite get along.

She made eye contact with Úrphen and raised an eyebrow as subtly as she could. They seemed impassive, but she caught their lips twitching upward as they fought a smile. She quickly averted her gaze before a smile crept upon her own lips.

At last, the rulers got down to business and came to the real reason they were gathered together: the division of the forest.

"We are entering a new age," Thranduil proclaimed, "and the Woodland Realm is not as large as it once was. Even I can feel the call of the sea, and though I know there are many among my people who wish to dwell in Middle-earth forever, there are still those who wish to depart for Valinor."

Tauriel took a deep breath. She knew this, of course. Elves left for Valinor even in her childhood, but it was not a common occurrence. After this war, even more had left, and she knew that the time of the elves was coming to a close. It pained her to see her friends leaving, especially as she felt no desire to leave just after she returned at last to her home.

"We do not need the entire forest as our territory," Thranduil said. "This land south of these mountains is rarely traversed even by my people."

"There are others who live in this forest with an equal claim," Celeborn said.

"Yes," Thranduil agreed. "The Beornings."

On they discussed. Tauriel listened attentively, concerned by the fate of her forest home. She had rarely traveled south of the mountains, it was true, but she would miss this beauty if Thranduil gave it up. She could see the stars clearly from the heights of these mountains, and in the distance, the solitary peak of the Lonely Mountain.

Eventually, it was decided. The Woodland Realm gave up all claims to the forest south of the mountains. Tauriel sighed at this pronouncement, but she agreed with Thranduil's decision. Besides, this meant less land for her to patrol.

The land south of the mountains to the Narrows, the thinnest strip of the forest, would be given to the Beornings. They did not have a diplomat present, but they had never been a people to be involved in politics of any kind. They took what they needed even before this division, though technically it had not been their land until now.

The remaining forest south of the Narrows went to Lothlórien, becoming East Lórien. Tauriel wasn't quite sure what Galadriel and Celeborn needed with this extra land, but she was sure they would put it to good use.

"This forest is no longer ours alone," Thranduil announced. "The Woodland Realm has all we need, and we are glad to have it."

"This forest has been called by the name of Mirkwood for centuries," Celeborn said, "but after its cleansing, that name is no longer fitting."

"It was once known as Eryn Galen, the Greenwood," Galadriel continued, "but a new age is dawning, and that name is of the past."

"From henceforth, in this new year of the elves and in this new age, this forest shall be known as Eryn Lasgalen, the Wood of Green Leaves," Thranduil proclaimed.

"Eryn Lasgalen!" a voice called out in the crowd. Tauriel smiled as she recognized the speaker: it was Glándir.

"Eryn Lasgalen!" another elf cried. The chant was brought up by everyone in the crowd, until even Tauriel and Úrphen were shouting out, "Eryn Lasgalen! Eryn Lasgalen!"

Tauriel grinned as she felt the forest and her people around her. Even Galadriel raised her voice in joy, followed by Celeborn and Thranduil. Tauriel wished Midhel were here, though she was comforted by the fact that she would see her again soon.

Eryn Lasgalen was a good name for her home: much like Eryn Galen, the Greenwood, but different and new. She smiled and paused in her chanting.

"Here's to the next hundred years," she murmured again.


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for 100 comments!! <3  
> This is the last chapter of this story. Thank you all so much for reading and commenting. This fic has been such a long journey and I've been putting off updating it because I don't want it to be over, but I think it's finally time to say a last goodbye to this story.  
> I wondered for a long time what I would do with Tauriel at the end of all this, and I think I made the right decision. I've read so many versions of her journey post-BotFA, and I have so many ideas of how I would write it differently in another story, but I love this version of it too. What I love about the Hobbit fandom is the wide variety of stories all taking off from the same point but ending up so very unique. Maybe I'll write another story about what happens to Tauriel after the Battle, or maybe I won't, but I'll definitely keep writing about her with and without Kili.  
> Thank you all again, and a special thank you to my incredible Beta and best friend Buffintruda <3

_To these memories I will hold_  
_With your blessing I will go  
_ _To turn at last to paths that lead home_

* * *

The Fourth Age of Middle-earth was a golden era of prosperity for the Race of Men. For the elves, however, the Fourth Age held a different story.

Rivendell emptied in the first twenty years of the Age. More and more elves left for Valinor, even the Silvan people of Eryn Lasgalen. Tauriel wept each time a friend of hers left. Most painful of all was Hithwen's departure. She had begun to be weary ever since Gwelonir's death, and at last she could ignore the call of the sea no longer.

After the War of the Ring, Tauriel settled back into her home. The trees felt different now, more alive, more wild than before. She still felt the melancholy song of the pain brought by the war, and she knew that though she may move on, it would never leave her entirely.

Legolas returned to Eryn Lasgalen after the war, Gimli by his side. Thranduil was shocked by this development, but he had learned from his past mistakes and worked hard toward respecting and accepting his son's companion.

Legolas did not stay long, however. Though he visited often, he found a new home in Ithilien, populating it with many elves. Glándir also left to Ithilien, much to his sibling and friends' sorrow.

Tauriel served as Captain of the Guard into the Fourth Age, glad to be protecting her homeland once again. The Guard had little troubles in this time of peace, and she found herself satisfied and content with her current life. Her past wanderings were only a memory.

More than a hundred years had passed in the Fourth Age when Thranduil called her into his council chamber one last time.

"My lord," Tauriel greeted him as she entered.

"Tauriel." Thranduil smiled, softer and kinder than Tauriel could ever recall him doing so.

"What do you require of me, my lord?" she asked, suddenly uneasy.

"Please. Sit." Thranduil gestured to a chair. Confused, Tauriel sat, watching as he did the same across from her.

"Tauriel, before I begin, let me just say that I am so very grateful for all your service in the Guard," Thranduil said. "Though we have not always seen eye to eye, you have done everything possible in order to keep our home safe."

"You're welcome, my lord," Tauriel said, surprised by his thoughtful words. Why would he be saying such things? she wondered.

"I have grown weary of this land," Thranduil said.

Tauriel froze. Was he...leaving?

"I miss my dear wife, dead these many centuries," he continued. "I am tired of the troubles of this land. I am old both in spirit and in body. I am not from Eryn Lasgalen, despite the years I have lived and ruled here. I am from the long-destroyed realms of Beleriand." He sighed, and Tauriel caught a glimpse of the ages he spoke of, and she felt young and small, not even a thousand years old.

"Legolas has felt the call of the sea ever since he first beheld it during the War of the Ring," Thranduil said.

Tauriel nodded. "I know." She had many times heard his lamentations, and though he loved his new home in Ithilien and his friends in Eryn Lasgalen, he had grown anxious to see the glory of Valinor.

"Legolas has decided to leave for the Undying Lands," Thranduil said, "and I have decided to go with him."

Tauriel stared at him, shocked. Legolas was truly leaving? She couldn't say she was surprised by that. His friends from the Fellowship of the Ring had slowly succumbed to their mortality, all save Gimli the Dwarf, who still lived. Aragorn, King Elessar of Gondor, had been the most recent to die, and she understood why he had chosen now to leave. She only wondered how Gimli would take this—and why Legolas had not told her himself.

But Thranduil? This was a surprise. He had explained his reasoning, and she understood it, but there had been little prior warning. She supposed he could not bare to be parted from both his son and his wife, when he had the option to be with both.

"I..." Tauriel said. She didn't know what to say to such a proclamation. "My lord..."

"I know you must be shocked," Thranduil said. "I do not blame you. But my mind is made up. As my chief Captain, I am entrusting you with the care of the Woodland Realm after my departure."

Tauriel could scarcely believe her ears. "Me?" she exclaimed. After all she had done, she still sometimes wondered how she had been even reappointed to her position. To be promoted, especially to such a high station—this was beyond her comprehension...

"Yes. You." Thranduil smiled. "You will have help, of course—we are not leaving for another year, and I will aid you. You will have counselors; if you prefer, you could head a council instead of being a Queen. I favor that last option. But you love this kingdom more than anything else, Tauriel, and you will make an excellent and benevolent ruler."

"My lord, I don't know..." Tauriel shook her head. "I don't want this."

"Good," Thranduil. "You will be better if you don't."

* * *

Over the next year, Thranduil and Legolas broke the news to their people. Tauriel refused to rule by herself, instead forming a council that would make decisions together. As their rulers left, many Woodland elves decided to go with them. The elves who remained in Eryn Lasgalen were mostly Silvan now, with only a few Sindar remaining. The overall numbers had greatly diminished, and Tauriel soon became acquainted with the few subjects she hadn't already known.

Much to everyone's astonishment, Legolas proclaimed that Gimli was coming with him to Valinor. Tauriel could not believe her ears at first. How in the world would that be allowed—a dwarf in Valinor! Tauriel thought that it seemed the sort of thing she might have attempted, back in her flighty days, had Kíli still lived.

Gimli was an old dwarf now, with a beard as white as his father Glóin's had been when Tauriel had seen him in Rivendell. He remained strong and clever, however, and still enjoyed teasing Tauriel on the occasions that he visited Eryn Lasgalen.

On the day of Legolas, Gimli, and Thranduil's final departure, a great feast was held. Much to Tauriel's bittersweet amusement, this was the day of Mereth nuin Giliath, the Feast of Starlight.

As the elves drank and celebrated their great ruler and the shining stars above them, Tauriel found herself melancholy.

"Tauriel, may I speak with you?" Legolas asked, seemingly aware of her detachment from the party.

"Of course," she agreed.

He took her outside, into a hall. "Are you alright?" he asked. "You seem...unhappy."

"Well..." Tauriel sighed. "I'm going to miss you, you know. It seems I've only just got you back, and now you're leaving forever."

Legolas's smile was sad. "I am sorry. But this is where my road leads, where my soul calls me."

"I don't begrudge you," Tauriel clarified. "Only...your happiness is what I always wished for."

"You have your friends here," Legolas said. "Midhel and Iesteth have not left you, nor have the others. Indeed, Glándir has been talking of coming back to the forest now that I've left Ithilien."

Tauriel nodded. "You're right. I know. But..." She sighed. "This is the Feast of Starlight, Legolas. I always feel sad on this night, and all the more now that you're leaving. Sometimes, I look at you and Gimli, and I wish for everything I might have had."

Legolas embraced her. Now that he was friends with men and dwarves, he was freer with his emotions and with touch. This time, Tauriel was grateful. A hug was just what she needed.

"Maybe someday you can come to Valinor, and find him there," Legolas murmured. "I doubt the Valar would be so unkind as to let you suffer for all eternity."

"Perhaps," Tauriel said, but she didn't quite believe him.

* * *

Soon the the travelers left, and entourage of companions with them, bound for the same fate. The remaining elves continued to celebrate, but Tauriel bid her friends farewell and went down into the dungeons.

The cells were empty, and had been for years. Tauriel heard echoes of the party above her, the gentle fall of water not far off, the soft pad of her own feet on stone. She closed her eyes, letting her memories guide her to the cell where Kíli had been held.

It seemed an age since they had first met. It had been, nearly. Tauriel felt the promise stone in her pocket, traced the runes: _Inik Dê. Return to me._ She still held it with her always, even all these years later.

"I miss you," she said aloud. She had never spoken to him before, not since his death. But sitting here, in the very place where they had first met, she felt his presence strongly. Whether his spirit was truly there and could hear her words, she didn't know, but her words were for herself as well as him.

"I wish we had gotten our chance," she said. She bowed her head, her hair falling into her face. "But we did not."

She sighed. "How did I come back here, Kíli? After so long, it is as if nothing has changed. I am still in the forest, still in the same place we met. Was all my suffering for nothing? Am I truly the same?"

But as soon as she spoke the words she knew they were wrong. "No," she said, raising her head. "It _is_ different. _I_ am different. I am a ruler of Eryn Lasgalen. I fought in the War of the Ring. I made a difference, in my home, in others' lives. In your life."

Tauriel closed her fist around the promise stone. "I remember your mother. I remember Balin, and Dwalin, and Glóin. Your people are strong, and they are kind. So are you."

She swore she could almost feel his touch on her hand. She unfurled her fist, staring at the stone, her last memory of Kíli. "You set me on this journey. It has been long and painful, but I am back home. I am with my friends, my family. And though many things have changed—many things are changing—I cannot say it has all been for ill."

She felt at peace now, truly, for the first time since Kíli's death. After all she had gone through, all the pain and all the change, she was truly where she belonged.

"I wish you could be with me," she said, "but I must take what I can."

She slipped the stone back into her pocket and touched the bars of the cell. Then she turned and walked back up the stairs and to the Feast of Starlight, ready to rejoin her friends and her home.

* * *

_I bid you all a very fond farewell._

 

 

**The End**


End file.
